


your ivy grows (now i’m covered in you)

by nyrcella



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (but they will be reincarnated duh), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Canonical Age Difference, Character Death, Cunnilingus, Edwardian Period, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forbidden Love, HEA, Infidelity, Murder, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-Linear Narrative, Reincarnation, SO i’m tagging rape, Vaginal Fingering, ben and rey were past lovers, but it’s a wife’s duty, but not too graphic, but they were both murdered by rey’s husband, even i feel mushy writing this lol, even though she doesn’t want to, fr it’s just pure love, i try okay, minor rey/others, one where rey’s husband still tries to sleep with her, there’s some karmic shit here, they’re going to meet again in modern time, this is the most romantic shit i’ve ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyrcella/pseuds/nyrcella
Summary: In 1905, Rachel and Bernard were in love. The kind of love where it blazes in the dark. The problem is?Rachel was married.In the present time, Rey always wonders about a tall man with long dark hair and broad shoulders that always appears in her dreams. The dream is always so vivid and her feelings always feel real. Strong. The kind of love she has never ever felt before. The problem is?She has never met that man before.[Based on @reybencyera’sprompt.]
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 71
Kudos: 113





	1. your touch brought forth an incandescent glow

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for the lack of accuracy, I mainly depend on my Anne of Green Gables knowledge. I hope you’re only here for the smut, drama, murder and forbidden love instead of historical accuracy 🥺 
> 
> I’ve written most of the fic so look forward to frequent updates (unless I, uh, extend the chapters).
> 
> Also, Rey’s husband is unnamed. I’ve rewritten the whole thing (for those who have seen my old draft) and decided to make him unnamed for now.
> 
> Flashback scenes are beta’d by [bee](https://twitter.com/reyiotrash2). I implore you to read her [fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyIotrash)!!!

_"I'll be back before it gets dark," her husband says gruffly, picking up his hat after tying his boots on the doorway. "I'll see you at home, dear."_

_She wipes her clammy palms on her skirt, smiling at him. Her whole body instantly grimaces when he leans down to kiss her before he's out of the door. His lips feel like sandpaper on hers, rough and coarse. A long exhale escapes her lips the moment she's gone as if she has been holding in her breath for too long._

_From the window right beside her door, she peeks between the blinds where her husband hops on his carriage. She watches in anticipation as he commands his horse with a "ha!" and a flick of the rein to start moving. The farther away he is, the more her stomach flutters and her toes curl with excitement. The coast is almost clear._

_When he's finally out of her view, she doesn't waste her time as she takes off her vest and dashes out of the door. She doesn't even bother to doll herself up, instead she settles on the braid she did this morning. Her feet pick up the pace as she runs into the woods near her house, her shoes pick up the mud as she never stops running even when her feet feel like they're getting ripped out and her lungs tightening._

_The crunching sound of the leaves from her feet stepping on them coincides with the beat of her heart. The cold wind kisses her flushed face as she gets closer and closer to where she wants to go._

_She takes a lungful of air as she rests her hand on one of the cold tree trunks. Is she too early? Some of the strands of her hair stick on her face as she looks around. His cottage is a little remote in the middle of the woods, convenient for both of them. She considers knocking on his door but they promise to meet by the tree._

_A yelp emits her mouth when something circles around her waist before her back meets something solid. The familiar leather and wood scent immediately feels like home. She lets out a giggle, turning around._

_The honey orbs in his eyes stare into her slightly green eyes, stealing her breath away. He wraps her arms tighter around her, pulling her until she's flushed against his chest._

_"Hi," he murmurs. Just his faintest touch and it has brought an incandescent glow in her chest._

_Her cheeks burn at his whiskey voice. She reaches one of her hands up to brush some of his hair that falls on his brows before she grabs his suspenders. Her chest aches at how handsome he is, with lips made to sin._

_She closes her eyes, anticipating for his lips to meet hers. This is exactly where she belongs. Right here, in his arms, with his scorching lips to warm her up during the cold winter. She knows she shouldn't, she knows the only person she should be this close to is the one she swears to be true to in the eyes of God._

_But this is the only time where she feels truly alive. Where she doesn't feel like she's grieving for a living and in this case, she's grieving for the loss of even the barest hint of happiness._

_Even after running for miles and miles, she doesn't feel as breathless as having his lips trail to her jaw like he's doing now, his deft fingers fumbling to unbutton her shirtwaist, his pinky brushes over her breast._

_"You're undressing me here?" she teases, her breathing is laboured. "Someone's impatient."_

_He groans in her ear. "Just going to take off a couple of layers so I could get you in my bed nice and easy. Let you breathe for a moment."_

_She laughs freely, helping him as she removes her collar and taking off her skirt. As soon as she's left in only her petticoat, the outside layers of her clothes are left abandoned on the floor, she whines at the feeling of his mouth on her throat._

_"Take me to bed now," she begs, not caring how she sounds right now. She's too drunk on him, too desperate to have him. "We don't have much time before the sundown."_

_He easily scoops her up into his arms after her boots are off, leaving them outside, his lips never leaving her skin. For a moment, she takes the time admiring his size. He's broad all over, massive as the tree trunk she had just rested on._

_The door barges open with a kick and just like that, she's inside his humbled home. He uses his foot again to close the door, leading her to his bed by the window. The house is so small that the bed faces the kitchen._

_But she wouldn't have it any other way. All she wants is him, here, accompanied by the fireplace. Just his broad body covering hers, his lips all over her skin, his palms drawing indentations on her body. He turns her around to pull the drawstring of her petticoat skirt behind her, throwing the material on the floor._

_Only a few pieces of layers to remove left. The first time they did this, she was nervous how much time it took taking off the layers alone. Enough time to change his mind. Enough time to change her mind, doing it to a man she wasn't wedded to._

_Because she was already wedded to someone else, thanks to her father’s terrible gambling problem, owing this man who would soon wed her everything he didn’t have. What’s a better way to pay off your debt other than marrying off your daughter?_

_Apparently Bernard loved it, taking his time just undressing her and teasing her. By the time she was naked, he was amazed by how soaked her sacred part was while her stomach was filled with butterflies as the man who wasn’t her husband was crossing an uncharted territory. A man who was supposedly her doctor who treated her when she had a high fever that she couldn’t even move._

_For months, they danced around each other. Hands brushing each other, always burning her. His gaze lingering on her eyes as he studied her pulse. Her husband would be downstairs while Dr. Smith inspected her temperature and fed her medicines._

_She knew it was wrong to ogle him. It was wrong to imagine his beautiful face while she prepared meals for her own husband. She kept convincing herself that it was only a crush._

_Except the crush wasn’t unrequited. She was so taken over by her desire that she leaned in to kiss him without even thinking after he had told her that her health was improving. Praising that she was doing so well and he was so proud of her._

_Surprisingly, he reciprocated the kiss with even more intensity while her husband was right downstairs. She had never been kissed like that — like he was so hungry for her, the need eating him up alive._

_After doing this a couple of times, there is now a sense of urgency. The layers are too many for her because of how much she needs him right now. He kneels down as he undoes the garter while she undoes her corset. She shivers at the feel of his palm along her stockinged thigh. He loves to tease as his nose rubs along her thigh, causing her to curl her toes. His nose then buries in the crotch where she's still wearing her drawers, inhaling her scent._

_He's the only one she lets wander around this part of her body. Not even her husband has come this far, even though he has tried so many times. Her husband has touched her here, but never buried his face between her thighs._

_She runs her fingers through his hair as he looks up at her. She loves it, seeing her tall man kneel down for her like this. Looking absolutely debauched. Ready to worship her._

_His skilled fingers pop the button of her combination suit out one by one all while her heart is fast as it beats against her chemise top. She lets him do all the work while she stands, towering him on his knees._

_"I can't believe I get to touch you like this," he breathes staggeringly._

_With her palms on her shoulders, she slips down the neckline of the combination suit until she's standing in only her stockings. The way his eyes just take in the sight before him, glimmering as if she's the sun gives her this butterflies in stomach feeling. Fluttering._

_No one has ever looked at her the way he does. Not even her..._

_She shakes off her unwanted thoughts, focusing on the way he looks at her cunt. It's filthy, just from his stares alone. She never gets used to his sinful mouth covering her whole cunt. She sobs when his tongue flicks this little bud of nerve that always ignites her cells._

_"Oh, my darling," she moans, relishing in the pleasure he's giving her._

_He swirls and circles his tongue before she feels his finger prodding her opening. "This is mine, isn’t it?" he asks, voice thick with lust. "Tell me, my darling."_

_"Yes," she sighs, gripping his thick hair. If her husband knew what she's doing now, God knows how terrible the outcome would be. "Yours, everything is yours. Just yours."_

_He sucks the nub harder, until she writhes. Her knees buckle as they struggle to keep upright but she doesn't want him to stop. He crooks his finger inside her, finding this one spot that causes her eyes to only see white._

_"Look at you," he pants, flattening his tongue on the said nub. "Beautiful like this. Just for me. Mine."_

_Her whole body flushes from his praise. His words are like a blaze to her body, burning her. "Oh heavens," she gasps. "Just like that, darling."_

_Without relenting, he does what he's told, moving his finger lower and crooking there. The stars explode behind her eyes as she drips all over his face. He devours her whole as she keeps dripping for him._

_"My wonderful girl," he praises. He stands up and lifts her to place her gently on the bed. Her cheeks flush when she sees that he's still clothed while she's so exposed for him, other than her stockings._

_She doesn't feel disgusted as he kisses her while his mouth is covered with her. All she feels is delighted, just getting to be this close to her man. It almost makes her cry, how he's not hers. How he's not the one she's wedded to._

_As they pull away, she starts stroking his cheek, admiring how beautiful he is. He closes his eyes, resting in her palm. He loves it when she caresses his cheek like this. He turns his head, kissing her palm._

_"My darling," he sighs. "How I love, love, love you."_

_The tears brimming her eyes start falling down her cheeks. "Why can't you be mine?" she ponders out loud. "I don't want to go back home. I want to be with you."_

_He stares at her with glistening eyes. He kisses her again. "We will, darling. It's just going to take some time and I promise I'll take you away. We'll run from this god forsaken town, I promise. All in due time, my love."_

_"Truly?" she asks._

_He smiles, nodding shakily. His eyes are full of promises. "Truly, my love."_

_Their lips meet again, this time the kiss is more passionate, more urgent. She's hopeful now, that someday they will get their happy ending. Her hands reach up to unbutton his shirt while he pulls down his suspenders._

_They never stop kissing as they remove each article of his clothing. His lips pepper kisses down her neck until her chest, kissing her bosoms. As soon as he's completely naked, he lines the head of his length on her opening._

_He enters her in one swooshing motion while the fire creaks in the background. Even though they've done this a number of times, she still gasps when he completely stretches her, her arm wraps around his neck. His lips are on her shoulder as he eases inside, muttering her name over and over._

_"Sweet heavens," she pants when he picks up the pace, filling every gap inside her since he's so well endowed. He lets her come first before he pulls himself out as soon as he starts shuddering on top of her._

_His hand strokes his length for a while before he spurts his spends all over her stomach and her chest, covering herself in him. He stares in disbelief at the mess he has made on her body while she caresses his hair._

_For a while, they just lie there in his bed, their legs tangled with each other. He strokes her arm, kissing her temple. She could see it, marrying him, having his children as they grow older together. They'll run away together, she could see it._

_"It's almost dark," she murmurs, finally putting on her clothes again after he cleaned her up with warm soaked cloth. He did offer to run her a bath but she refused. "I have to get going now."_

_He's reluctant to let her go every single time, but just like every single time, she leaves._

_________________

“Rey, come on, want me to drive you to McDonald’s?” her brother asks after knocking on her door. 

Her ears immediately perk up, Twitter is immediately forgotten. “Now?” she asks, checking what time it is on her phone. It’s fucking 2AM. 

He clasps his hips on her doorway. He’s already wearing his hoodie and jeans even though she’s pretty sure he’s only planning to go for a drive thru. “Well, if you don’t want to tag along—” 

She immediately gets up from her bed. No offence to Ted Mosby who says nothing good ever happens after 2AM because if she has the chance to buy fries and McFlurry around this hour, he can bet that she’ll do it.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” she exclaims, grabbing her jacket since she’s only wearing a tank top and shorts. “Close the door, I’m gonna change my pants.” 

He snorts. “We’re just gonna stay in the car, Reyby,” he teases, shaking his head. 

“Then why are you all dressed up?” she huffs, taking the time to brush her hair in front of the mirror after putting on her jacket since he hasn’t left her doorway yet.

Her brother pretends to ponder his own decision. “I just feel like it?” 

She glares at him, pushing the door close on his face. “Don’t leave yet or I swear to God,” she tuts so he could hear. 

From the other side of the door, she can hear him cackling. Sometimes she truly hates her brother. Although, the only perk is that at least he would drive her to McDonald’s at 2AM so there’s an upside there.

But other than that, he’s fucking annoying. 

She takes off her shorts and grabs her sweatpants because there is no way she's going to wear jeans right now. She puts on her sneakers and checks the mirror one last time. If she’s meeting her soulmate at Mcdonald’s drive thru at 2AM, he has to deal with it. Grabbing her phone and keeping it in her pocket, she immediately opens the door to find her brother is playing with his phone in the hallway to the entrance door. 

“Here I am, here I am!” she announces, shoving his body towards the door. 

“Hey!” he exclaims as she keeps pushing him until he opens the door for both of them. “What are you so aggressive for, lil sis?” 

She just hops on her back so that he’ll give her a piggyback, causing him to choke since he’s a skinny little bitch. “You’re my bitch now, Armie.” 

“I’m literally treating you McDonald’s at 2 fucking AM, I could have gone without telling you.” He locks the door while she’s still hanging onto him like a koala bear. “You’re fucking heavy, you know that?” 

“That’s not nice,” she grits, slapping his shoulder. 

He snorts. “You’ll thank me later.” 

She finally hops down his back and looks at him as they walk towards the staircase. “What do you mean by that?” 

“I mean, I’m literally treating you—” 

“Armie…” she urges, detecting a hint of bullshit. 

He lets out a sigh, keeping the apartment key in his back pocket. “Remember Poe Dameron?” 

She knits her brows in confusion, holding onto his shoulder as they walk down the stairs. “The guy we went to high school with?” 

“The guy that you used to have a _huge_ crush on,” he points out. 

Her cheeks burn. “I don’t remember that,” she lies through her teeth. 

Armie nudges her rib, making her yelp. _“Oh, Armie, he’s so fine,”_ he mimics her voice. _“He’s so handsome, so strong. Why can’t he ever date me?”_

The grimace is real. “I do _not_ talk like that,” she argues. 

He snorts. “You talked like that. You mentioned him all the time. My ears were ringing with just Poe, Poe, Poe.” 

“Shut up!” she snaps, her face is turning all hot. 

“When did you stop having a crush on him anyway?” he asks. 

It’s embarrassing if she tells him. She knows Armie is her brother and they tell each other almost _everything._ Their bond is like no other, to be honest. Her friends are always envious about their relationship — not that it’s incestuous or anything. But they all want that bond that she and Armie share. They argue all the time but they also love each other unconditionally. He’s incredibly protective of her and they always look out for each other. 

“Uh,” she says. How do you tell your brother that you’re having this recurring dream where it’s not so vivid yet it feels so real? This dream first occurred when she was at her lowest point, when she was feeling awfully lonely. It sounds ridiculous but she keeps dreaming that she’s in love and happy with this guy and he makes her feel… so good. 

There was a time when she had a sex dream with him. That was fucking amazing. 

The dream never shows her his face though but after sometime, she could make out some of his features. What she could remember is that he’s tall, he has long hair and… that’s literally it. But she recognises him, somehow. She knows it’s the same guy from her other dreams every time he appears. She has never met him yet the rush surges inside her tells her this is him. 

Maybe it’s ridiculous, believing in some preposterous dream. It probably means nothing, anyway. 

Yet sometimes she searches for him in the crowd. Anyone who’s tall with long hair and… well, that’s it. It could have been Hozier, for fuck’s sake. 

Could it be Hozier? 

She shakes off the thought. The man in her dream doesn’t have curly hair, if she’s not mistaken. 

“It’s just… it has been too long since I saw him,” she tells him. “Why, is he interested in me?” 

Armie smirks as they both finally reach the lobby of their apartment. They walk to the main door to where he parked the car. “Yeah, he thinks you’re cute. He wasn’t looking for anything serious in high school, _duh,_ but now he’s open to it.” 

“And you weren’t mad?” she asks, scrunching her nose up. “I mean… you’re always picky when you’re choosing my boyfriend.” 

He rolls his eyes, unlocking the car door. “Well, I know you’re desperate now—” 

She slaps his arm before she circles around the car to get to the passenger door. 

“Ow, seriously, are you always violent at 2AM?” Armie hisses. 

She sticks her tongue out. “Pussy.” As soon as they both get in the car, that’s when the horror kicks in. “Hold on. We’re meeting him tonight? I’m not wearing an ounce of makeup!” 

Armie snorts, turning the ignition. “You’re fine, Rey. No one looks good at 2AM.” 

“Yeah, but still—” 

“He has seen you in high school and you didn’t wear any makeup in high school. It’s _fine_.” 

Still, she fumbles for any lip gloss that she might have dropped in the car. She loses her stuff a lot and most of the time, they’re in the car. “You really know nothing about women,” she mutters. 

Armie barks a laughter, pulling out of the driveway. “You know he just got out of Marine? He’s really buff now, Rey, I think you’ll drool over him again.” 

“Why are you suddenly trying to find me a boyfriend?” she asks, searching for anything in the glovebox. As if luck is on her side, she finds a lip balm. Better than nothing. 

“Again, you seem desperate,” he points out. 

She gasps, the imaginary lightbulb on top of her head flickers. “Did you find someone you like, meaning you’re gonna move out someday or later so now you’re just trying to not feel guilty?” 

Armie groans. “Rey.” 

She grins victoriously. “It is! I’m right, aren’t I?” 

He takes a sharp intake of breath. “Maybe.” 

She squeals. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” she exclaims. “I’m such a _genius_.” 

“Alright, don’t get too excited on me now, I’m driving,” he chides. 

The street is empty, as it always does around this time. They’re only accompanied by the streetlights flickering around them. She still can’t believe her brother is setting her up with her old crush in the middle of the night. She’s not going to joke, though. She is kind of excited about this. 

He is not that tall like the guy in her dream is but Poe is _real._ Which is what she needs right now. Maybe she’s wearing heels in her dream and the man is not that tall. Poe might have grown out his hair. 

It’s so quiet like this and she likes it. So quaint. The radio is playing some old songs from the 70s since no one really listens to the FM around this hour so they just play whatever the fuck they want. Frankly, she prefers this, barely anyone is talking right now other than the commercials. Listening to Billy Joel’s _She’s Always a Woman._

“How is she like?” she asks, putting her feet on the glovebox, which Armie really hates. (He has to deal with it, whatever.) 

Armie couldn’t help but smile, focusing on the road. “She’s… well, she’s short.” 

Rey slaps his arm again, earning an _‘ow!’_ from him. 

“Like, so _tiny_!” he emphasises. 

“I bet she could easily kick your ass.” 

He purses his lips. “In my defence, she’s strong.” 

That makes her laugh. The yellow **‘M’** sign is only a few miles away from where she’s looking. “Anyone who could kick my brother’s ass is great in my book.” 

“That’s nice to know,” he deadpans.

She just laughs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any guess on who Rachel’s husband is?
> 
> also, what if i ask yall to comment so i’m more motivated to update this more frequently. then what? then what?


	2. he wants what’s only yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Just the thought of him touching her makes her sick. Even though he's her husband, she still doesn't feel like she's his. She’s thoroughly Bernard’s—her body, her heart, her soul. She belongs to Bernard, just the way he belongs to her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW // rape, alcohol** (Rachel’s drunk husband makes her take it as a wife’s duty while she’s unwilling) 
> 
> There’s also a scene where Rachel’s husband slaps her (but not in the same scene as the rape scene.)

Safe to say, Armie is _not_ happy when she tells him that she and Poe aren’t working out. Poe is great. He’s fun to be around with. He’s fucking hot. Fine as fuck, time really does him a great favour. He makes her laugh out loud, he’s a great karaoke partner. 

But that’s a best friend potential, not a _boyfriend_ potential. There isn’t any sexual chemistry between them at all. Not that Poe can’t please her. 

He knows how to use his mouth and fingers, alright. 

Still, there isn’t any _“oh God this is where I’m meant to be, I can see Poe Dameron eating me out for the rest of my life”_ kind of feeling like in that dream. 

Is that weird? Depending on her dream as her standards of who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with? It’s just so _vivid_ , her dream is. Maybe she has gone insane but she believes she will find him, the love of her life. 

Call her delusional or hopeless romantic. She believes she deserves that. 

“I don’t—I don’t _get_ it?” Armie asks, taking out the freshly laundered clothes from the laundry machine while she’s eating ice cream she bought from 7-Eleven right next to the laundromat. Call her lazy, she’s only here for the ice cream. 

She shrugs. “It’s just not meant to be?” she says with a sigh. 

Armie lets out the longest sigh she has ever heard. She’s pretty sure her hair has turned grey during the period of time he’s letting out his stupid sigh. This bitch is dramatic as fuck, she swears to God. 

“I have no words, lil sis,” he says after his 45-minutes long sigh. 

“Keep sighing then,” she retorts, catching the dripping ice cream from the bottom of the cone. 

He squints at her. “Can't you just help me over here?” 

“I’m busy eating this,” she tells him. 

He just snorts, folding the clothes and placing them in the basket. 

Meanwhile, she just grins. “By the way, when can I meet Rose?” she asks, grimacing when she accidentally spills some of the ice cream on her lap. Oops.

“Soon, I promise,” he says. “Her sister’s wedding is approaching so you can come with us if you want.” 

Her eyes widened in excitement before she shoves the whole cone in her mouth. “A wedding?” she exclaims after swallowing the whole thing.

Armie just nods while shaking his head at her messiness. “Yeah, it’s gonna be fun. But you gotta RSVP soon. Don’t you dare check the ‘plus 1’ if you don’t even have a date yet.” 

She pouts. “You know me too well.” 

“But you gotta avoid Rose’s cousin at the wedding,” he warns. “Rose has this cousin who might be your type but just… no.” 

Her brows cock up. “Why?” 

He blows out his breath. “You might think he’s cute and all that but he’s just… I met him the other day and the moment I saw him, I instantly had a _bad_ feeling about him. Apparently he always hangs around this bar and he likes to lie just to get in these girls’ pants. I’m just saying, he might be charming so you might fall for his pickup lines.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Armie, I’m smarter than that.”

“You know what? Maybe you should find a date for this wedding just so he won’t try to come onto you.” 

She still thinks it’s all weird but she knows how protective Armie is so she nods. “I’ll hit up this bar then, if that’s what makes you feel better.” 

“Fine, but avoid Takodana.” 

She makes a mental note. “Okay. How does he look like so I could avoid him?” 

Armie has only a couple of clothes left to fold. “Tall. Kind of long, dark hair. The hair reaches his shoulders.” 

And that’s when her heart almost stops beating. That can’t be him, can’t it? 

_________________

  
  


_When her husband comes home, she has already prepared a cup of tea and raspberry pie for him. He exhales sharply as he takes off his boot, just putting them on the floor there for her to clean up later. He just inspects the table where the food and tea are prepared before he sips the tea._

_She watches nervously, hoping the tea is not too hot, but also not lukewarm. Just enough. Just the way he likes. He hums as he drinks before he slams it back on the saucer._

_"Just pie, my dear?" he asks disapprovingly._

_She swallows. "The stew is still cooking," she stammers._

_His nose flares but he doesn't say anything. Just grunting as he sits down. The pie remains untouched when he takes out the newspaper out of his pocket._

_"Aren't you going to eat the pie, dearest?" she asks, rubbing her palms along her thighs. It's just... she has worked hard on making that._

_He just humphs, grabbing a cigar that's already on the table. "Light this up for me," he demands._

_She grabs a matchbox and strides towards him, attempting to light the match a couple of times. Her hands are shaking that she keeps failing at it. If she doesn't do it right, she knows he'll teach her a lesson and she doesn't want that. So she tries it again and again. When she keeps failing, she gasps when he hits her on the face._

_"Useless," he snaps, making her flinch in fear. But not in pain since she's used to this. He snatches the match and lights it himself. "Can't even do one simple thing."_

_But she stands there and takes it. Accepts it. Even if she doesn't love him, she knows she has to sit there prettily and give him everything she could give and take what she could take._

_Why can't she just run away now? Run away and go back to the arms she belongs in? She breathes staggeringly, her mind is all made up. She wants to run away tomorrow or tonight whether Bernard agrees or not. She knows he will come with her one way or another. She'll give him an option._

_The stew makes a screeching noise when it's done. She immediately stands up and rushes towards it, opening the lid. As much as she loathes him, he's her husband and she still has to tend him. As she spoons the stew, she feels a light smack on her ass._

_"You're a good wife, Rachel," he grumbles. "Such a good wife."_

_She clenches her jaw but she takes it, stirring the stew in the bowl so that it's not too hot._

_________________

Against all odds, she decides to visit Takodana after all, which is out of town. She told her brother she's just going to Niima Stead with Finn. Yes, she knows it's wrong and she rarely lies to her brother but she's curious.

What if this is him? 

She knows she can still see him at the wedding but having Armie's eyes following her around wouldn't be ideal. Plus, she'll be too busy wanting to get to know this mysterious Rose. No time to hook up with her potential love life that always visits her in her dreams. 

"So you went through all the trouble lying to your brother because you want to meet this guy who you've met in your dream," Finn says from the shotgun while checking Google Maps to see if she's in the right direction. 

"Dreams," she corrects even though it doesn't make much difference. She needs to see him even if Armie disapproves. This is the one time she wants to follow her heart instead of, well, just listening to Armie. 

Since their parents died when they were teenagers, it has always been just her and Armie. He was already 18 when their parents died so legally, he could still take care of her. She was so relieved that she doesn't have to live far away and she could still live with him. He's the only person she feels the safest with even if he's annoyingly protective. 

But she's an adult now. It's time for her to make her own decisions without depending on him. This is about a man she's going to spend the rest of her life. Armie might have been there for 21 years of her life but if she and the man she'll end up with live until they're 80, it shows she's going to live the rest of her life with him. 60 years with him, assuming they'll live that long.

"I have to meet him," she insists, driving past the town's signboard. Crossing the border. "This is the love of my life." 

Finn warns her to slow down, to which she does. "Aren't you, I don't know if I believe in all this bullshit but aren't you technically interfering with fate and destiny?" he asks when she stops accelerating the car. 

She taps on the steering wheel when the traffic light turns red. She's anxious and she has no idea why. Is she really doing this? She bites the inside of her cheek. "Armie would try to distract me and make me avoid meeting him," she whines. "At least, let me get this guy's number or something." 

Her best friend just sighs, nodding. "Well, you are stubborn so I can't exactly stop you. I'm just trying to reason with you." 

"It'll be fine," she convinces him, although she sounds more like she's convincing herself. "I'm tired of being lonely. I want my happy ending now. Armie got his. I want that too." 

"Okay," Finn murmurs. "I'm here to support you and be your wingman." 

She smiles at him, squeezing his hand that's on his lap before she starts driving as soon as the light turns green. She keeps driving and driving while her heart is racing against her ribcage. How does one prepare to meet the love of her life? 

At a bar out of all places? 

The closer she is to Takodana Bar, the more anxious she is. He's right, she's just interfering with fate here. 

But, as dramatic as this sounds, she has waited her whole life for him. Technically, she's driving along the path to her own happy ending. Does that sound dramatic? Fate alone is a dramatic thing. 

Thankfully, she manages to score a great spot to park. Right in front of the bar. She turns off the ignition and looks up at the **TAKODANA** sign. 

Here she is. Somewhere inside there, she's going to meet the love of her life. She has imagined a thousand scenarios on how this will all play out. 

One of the scenarios is where she walks inside the bar and it's like the whole place dims and there's only one spotlight. The spotlight somehow lands on the man she's going to spend the rest of her life with. He's probably talking to some girls if what Armie is telling is right. But then he'll turn his head as soon as she walks in. 

Their eyes would meet and everything is so much clearer. She watches her dreams flash before her eyes while she walks closer and closer to him. They'll exchange their names and a _"how are you"_ before they dive into a deep conversation where everything feels familiar because again, they've visited each other's dreams. 

"I'm ready," she tells herself, although this could also be for Finn. "I'm going in there." 

"Okay," Finn says behind her, unbuckling the seatbelt. "Let's go then." 

Giddiness takes over her as she steps out of the car. She'll apologise to Armie later — after she proves to him that this guy is a decent man and he's the one for her. Armie will understand, he just wants his little sister to be happy. 

She locks the car door and hooks her arm around Finn's. "This is a nice place," she remarks as they walk down the stairs since the bar is underground. It's much more exciting than the bar near their place — things are more happening here. 

Finn just hums in agreement. They both walk into the bar. 

Her eyes are immediately on alert as she searches for someone tall with long dark hair. It's a lot more crowded here than what she has imagined. 

"Did you see him?" Finn asks. 

She frowns. "No. Did you?" she shoots back. 

"No," he answers. "Let's just order a drink and blend in." 

"Kay," she sighs. 

They approach the bar. Finn orders for both of them while she searches for this mysterious man in her dream. Is he in the bathroom or something? She thanks Finn distractedly when he hands her the drink. 

People walk in and out but no sight of this mysterious man. She sips her gin and tonic frustratedly, all hope is almost gone. Maybe she's meant to meet him at the wedding after all. Or in months. Or years. Or basically _never_ because he doesn’t exist. 

"I'm sorry, babe," Finn offers, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Wanna go now?" 

"Five minutes more?" she asks quietly. 

Finn sighs and nods. "Okay. Five minutes." 

So they wait and wait. Four minutes have passed by. She's losing hope, almost finishing her second glass when a man in flannel walks in. 

Tall. 

Long hair. 

A little skinnier than her dream depicts but — that's _him._ She grips Finn's arm, motioning to him as if to say bingo. 

"That's him," she almost exclaims. "Oh my god. Should I say hi?" 

Finn looks at her in disbelief, as if she's kidding. "We have been sitting here for more than an hour, at some strange bar that we've never stepped into. Of course you should say hi to him?!" 

She bites her nail, smoothing her top. She looks hot just to meet this guy. Long sleeved crop top and skinny jeans to show off her asset. This better work. "Oh my god. I'm actually scared but—okay. Okay, I'm doing this." 

Her best friend nudges her arm. "Hell yeah, babe. Go meet the love of your life." 

She downs her drink for some liquid of courage before she slams it on the bar. "Wish me luck." 

"Good luck, babe." 

With the adrenaline pumping in her blood, she beelines between the crowd of people while the guy is talking to his friend while they lean against the wall. She keeps clenching and unclenching her fists as she makes her way to him. 

The closer she is to him, the more she could see his face. So, this is the face of her soulmate. He's nice to look at. Definitely. But she can't help but feel a little disappointed because, well, she should have known that real life and expectations would be different. She watches too many movies and listens to too many romantic songs that she thought meeting the love of her life would knock her out of her seat. 

No dimmed lights and only one spotlight. No the whole room turning black and white and he's the only one who's bright and colourful. 

Still. She _dreamed_ about him. That's magical enough. She has to remind herself as she approaches him. 

He finally turns to look at her when he notices someone is coming up to him. In slow motion, his face spreads into a... smirk, as he checks her out from head to toe. He sips his bottle of beer as he asks his friend to excuse him because his friend immediately leaves after he says something. 

He cocks one brow up as he speaks, "Why, hello there." 

She tucks her hair behind her ear, having to crane her neck to look at him. "Hi," she says back, grimacing at how breathless she sounds. Way to act cool, Rey. 

"Have we met before?" he quips, his brown eyes shining. 

Either it's a cheesy pickup line if the reputation precedes him is true or he has also dreamed about her. Either way, she's falling for it. 

"Uh, I dunno, have we?" she muses and hates herself afterwards. What the fuck is wrong with her tonight? 

That just makes him laugh as he checks her out again. "Either way, here we are," he says with a shrug. 

She nods. "Yup. Here we are." 

"So, I've never seen you here," he remarks. "I'm pretty sure I would remember you if I see you somewhere." 

Like a pathetic excuse of a person she is, she lets out a giggle. "Ah, well, I'm not from around here. I just... stumbled upon this place for some reason. You could say that fate is calling." Real subtle, Rey. Real subtle. 

He just seems amused. "Well I'm glad to see you here. So, tell me what you do for a living. You're not a high schooler yet?" 

She snorts before she laughs, even twirling her hair as she blushes. "No... I'm a third-year student. I'm doing law." 

His eyes twinkle with interest. "That's great!" 

They dive deeper into the conversation while she gives a thumbs up to Finn. Finn just grins at her as he talks to a couple of girls and guys. 

"You want to get out of here?" he asks after sometime. 

Even though he's practically her soulmate, she couldn't possible sleep with him the night they just met even if they won't end up as just a one-night-stand. Maybe she could put out at the wedding. Still, she won't let him know that she already knew of him by asking him if she knows either Rose or Paige Tico. 

So instead, she asks, "Well, I'm going to this wedding this weekend. You're probably too busy and you have plans yourself but I still have to ask. Would you be my date to the wedding?" 

He purses his lips. "I also have a wedding to attend." 

"Maybe we're going to the same wedding?" she suggests. "That would be insane though." 

He huffs as he laughs. "Really insane. Whose wedding is it?" 

She tries to sound subtle as she casually slips out, "Paige Tico's." 

His eyes glint. "That's a huge coincidence because I know the groom!" 

Thank fuck the plan is working. "Great! I'll, uh, meet you there then." 

He nods. "I'm looking forward to that, Rey. Let me give you my phone number." 

She takes out her phone and lets him key in his number. He hands the phone back to her. 

"Looking forward to seeing you then," he says with a smirk. 

"You too," she says, smiling before she goes back to Finn. She grins at her best friend, trying her best not to look giddy. Not when there's a possibility that he might be watching.

_________________

  
  


_Today, he comes home drunk, which is scarier than the usual version of him. She should have known whenever he comes home late that he must have been from the tavern after going on a bash. She jumps at the sound of him coming upstairs, no doubt to see her in bed._

_She yelps in horror as he prances towards her without a warning, putting all his weight on her until she finds it hard to breathe. He snatches the book in her hands and instead, pulls her in for a kiss after he has thrown her book somewhere on the floor. She grimaces at the smell of the pungent beer in his breath._

_"Come here, sweetie,” he coos, getting in bed and lying on top of her. “Kiss your dearest husband."_

_She turns her head away until his slobbering lips meet her cheek instead. "I'm reading, sir," she protests, trying to escape from his depraved arms. "Could we do this later?"_

_But he doesn't let her go. He wants what's only Bernard's. He tries to slip his hand under her skirt, which horrifies her so much she slaps his hand away and still tries to roll her body away to escape from him._

_"Come back here, sweetie, give me a kiss," he orders._

_Her heart is beating violently against her chest as he manages to yank her back until she’s under him again. "Please, dearest, you should go to sleep," she says gently even though she almost throws up. “Let me go, please?”_

_He smirks at her. "Not even one kiss, dearest?" he asks, clicking his tongue in disapproval. Her throat tightens as he kisses her neck while she lies there helplessly._

_She tries to swallow a lump in her throat as she attempts to push him away. "Go to sleep, my dear, you look exhausted."_

_“Come on, dearest,” he whines, grabbing both of her wrists and trapping both of them in his hand. “I’ve been patient enough, haven’t I?”_

_"Sir, you're drunk," she pleads pointedly. "I don't want you like this, please."_

_"I never get to touch you, Rachel!" he yells, making her flinch. "I'm your husband. I have a right to have my wife whenever I damn want."_

_Just the thought of him touching her makes her sick. Even though he's her husband, she still doesn't feel like she's his. She’s thoroughly Bernard’s—her body, her heart, her soul. She belongs to Bernard, just the way he belongs to her._

_No one else._

_Unfortunately, on paper, only her husband could do that._

_She loathes this so much. So, so much. She breathes hard, staring at him. "I—I'm not ready, sir," she stammers._

_His eyes flash at her almost scarily as he bares his teeth. The veins on his neck pop out. "How long do I have to wait?" he growls, lifting his head up to stare down at her. His eyes are almost like a thunderstorm. "Do I have to visit the brothel and sleep with the whores there before my wife could even agree to sleep with me?"_

_Sweat trickles her forehead as she leans against the wall. "P-Please?" she pleads. "I just need a little bit of time."_

_He sucks a sharp intake of breath, his hand completely hurting her wrists. “It is your duty as my wife to give me this, Rachel,” he grunts, using his free hand to pull her skirt up. His bulge pokes her thigh like a threat. “I can’t wait anymore, dearest.”_

_“B-but—” she stammers, still attempting to protest._

_“Have you been sleeping with anyone?” he pans accusingly, still tugging her skirt up so that he could wander his hand around her bare thigh. She’s not even wearing anything underneath._

_She lets out a gasp, terrified of saying the wrong thing. “N-No, sir. I’ve b-been faithful.”_

_He squints at her, his hand finally cupping her mound. She sniffles, feeling like he has no right to place his hand there even though she is supposedly his to do whatever he wants. “No one has pleased you yet? You’ve remained true?”_

_She nods nervously, blinking back her tears. “Y-Yes, sir. Just you.”_

_“Prove it to me by letting me have you just the way I should,” he says, the threat hanging on the tip of his tongue. She can sense it as he traces his finger along her opening. “You’re mine, Rachel, don’t forget that.”_

_It’s inevitable that he asks what he deserves. After all, she does belong to him. They vowed under the eyes of God. By vowing that, she has made a promise to obey her husband._

_With tears streaming down her cheeks, she gives in and lets him have her anyway he wants. She lies there, her body is malleable for him to use. She chokes a sob as he takes her, touching all the places that Bernard has mapped out. After all, it is her duty as his wife._

_The whole night after her husband drifts off, she never stops sobbing in her pillow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’m just posting these two chapters as my “base”. I’ll see you all next year! ♥️
> 
> Please leave kudos and drop comments to motivate me to finish this!


	3. how’s one to know?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You do know that I only belong to you, do you?” she asks, rolling her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m maybe wedded to him but I’m yours and only yours.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello ppl. after writing the whole thing, as it turns out, this fic is consisted of 6 chapters and not 4 💀 
> 
> but i’ve already finished writing the whole thing! so expect a new update every two days 💘
> 
> also, Happy New Year, lovelies! may we all flourish this year.

Rose Tico is an adorable little thing. Armie did _not_ exaggerate when he said she's so small. 

Until Rey saw the way Rose punched Armie's arm. That wince of pain on his face was real. 

Point being is, Rose is endearing. 

The whole time from when they were at the church as they watched Paige and her husband exchanged vows to now as they hang around at the hotel lounge as they wait for Paige to change into her reception dress is just them conversing and exchanging "omg, shut up!" while Armie drinks in silence, other than the occasional smile and snort.

They have a lot of things in common — it all began from Rose asking whether she got to watch this new DC movie on cinema and now it's just them ranting about their own superhero canon head and all that. Armie knows nothing about this so he's just quiet the whole since he's a _local_.

Definitely sister-in-law-approved. 

After a while, Armie finally breaks the silence. "You didn't find a date?" he asks. 

She clears her throat. "Uh, no,” she lies. “But it’s fine. At least I get to know Rose here." She grins at Rose. “There will be someone later, whatever.”

He just humphs as he continues drinking in his light blue suit that Rey forced him to wear to match Rose's dress. 

"By the way, where did you buy that dress?" Rose asks. "It's gorgeous!" 

Rey looks down at her own dress — a silver off-shouldered A-line dress with a high slit just since she's meeting the love of her life for the second time and all that. She's planning to wow him, even having to use the stupid curling iron and then clipping her hair to the side. 

It's going to be magical, she can feel it. 

"I bought it online," she tells Rose with a smile. "I'll show you the website." 

"You bought that online?" she asks in disbelief. "It hugs your body so perfectly!" 

All she does is grin in response. 

"Well, I have to go see my sister now," Rose says apologetically. "I'm already so late, I should have stayed with her. I only have some time getting to know you while she's doing her makeup. Catch you later?" 

Rey nods. "Of course." 

As Armie continues drinking, Rey pinches his thigh. "You also need to go with your girlfriend, you know that?" 

He scrunches his nose up. "Why should I? I'm not gonna disrupt the bride or something." 

She rolls her eyes at his hopelessness while at the same time, she just wants to get rid of him as she finds her soulmate. She did call him two days after that night at the bar and thankfully, it wasn't a fake number since she sort of freaked him out by coming onto him or something. 

"Just _go_ with her," she urges, checking her phone to see if he has replied yet. She did text him that she had arrived at the hotel. 

"Nuh-uh, you're stuck with me, sis," he says nonchalantly. "I'm seeing her at the reception hall later, don't worry." 

She almost pouts but she refrains herself before he suspects her. Still no reply on her phone's notifications centre. 

"Why do you want to get rid of me so badly?" he asks lightheartedly. 

All she does is tapping her nails on the arm of the couch. "I'm not, I'm just... trying to help." 

He seems doubtful of her. "Really? Just trying to help?" he deadpans. "Come on, I'm your brother. What is up with you?" 

"Nothing, okay!" she counters. "Fine. Stay. Or whatever." 

"Are you alright?" he asks softly. "You just seem tense. Are you nervous about something?" 

"I'm _fine_ , Armie, it's all good," she assures him. "I'm just a tad nervous because I don't know anyone here." 

That just makes him smile. "Don't worry, I'm setting you up with someone." 

She knits her brows in confusion. "What?" 

"Yeah, Rose has a friend and we both think you two would look great together," he says with a shrug. 

Oh fuck. This can't be happening. She looks around the lobby to see everyone in their own lavish clothes and all that yet there's no sign of him. He hasn't texted her either. Why is her heart pounding right now? She's suddenly panicking and sweating and all that. Her stomach churns in anticipation or anxiousness, she's not sure. 

Apparently Armie detects that from the way he frowns at her. "Seriously, what is wrong with you?" 

"Nothing!" she answers too hurriedly. "Can't we just go in now? Hasn't the reception begun? I mean, everyone's arriving." 

Armie seems amused as he downs his whiskey. "Alright, alright, let's go then. Jesus, seriously, what is up with you?" 

"Fucking nothing," she mutters, both of them standing up. She immediately hooks her arm around her brother's while her eyes are wandering, still looking for him. "So, you found someone for me?" 

"Yeah," Armie simply says. He gives their names to the usher that's greeting guests at the door. They're given the number of their table and where the table is situated. 

"What if I don't want to be set up with anyone?" she asks in a hushed tone as soon as they enter the hall. 

He glances at her to flash an odd look. "Are you high?" 

She looks around the hall. There are still empty tables which means they're pretty early. "No?" she answers although she herself sounds doubtful. She swears she hasn't taken anything though. She's completely sober. 

They arrive at their own table, close to the table of the bride and groom's family's table. This is practically a VIP table of weddings, to be honest. She takes a seat where they've prepared a name card for her. **REAGAN HUX.** She grimaces at her own name. 

As much as she misses her parents, she still wonders what got into them when they chose this name for her. It better not be the goddamn president. It's just such an unsexy name. 

When the hall is filled with more and more people, that's when she spots him. She breathes a sigh of relief to see that he makes it. She looks at the name card beside her and wonders if this _Ben Solo_ would be open to switch places with her supposed date. 

He also finally notices her as he grins. She waves and motions him to come here. She has no idea how to explain to Armie how she met him when— 

"Hey, how do you know Vicrul?" Armie asks, surprised. "This is so funny because Rose and I were actually trying to set you both up!" 

Her lips part as she gapes at her brother while Vicrul approaches both of them. 

“Hi,” Vicrul says, kissing her cheek. 

“Hey, you made it,” she says with a smile before she cringes because he isn’t here as her plus 1, he’s here because he’s literally invited. 

"This is a mistake," Armie mutters beside her. "Why in God's hell is Ben Solo seated next to you?"

Who the hell is Ben Solo? 

_________________

_She comes with his name on her lips._

_They both catch their breaths after their lovemaking, drenched in sweats and limbs all tangled, accompanied by the sound of his fireplace. She places a kiss on her lover’s chest, right where his heartbeat is. His hand strokes up and down her back, his breath is hot on the crown of her head. For him, it was just lovemaking, but for her, that was also a way for her to extirpate every inch of where her husband has laid his hands on._

_She knows it’s not him that she should have apologised, yet still…_

_“He touched me,” she confesses, the hot tears welling up her eyes as she tells him. “I didn’t want him to, my body is all yours but—”_

_Her lover just shushes her, kissing her hair. “It’s alright,” he murmurs assuringly although the loud and rapid beating of his heart against her cheek might tell that what he’s feeling is contrary to what he’s telling her. “It’s okay, my darling. I trust you.”_

_She doesn’t stop crying afterwards, sniffling until more tears drop on his skin. “I couldn’t help but feel repulsive about myself afterwards. I’m truly sorry, darling, I dread this entire situation so much.”_

_He wraps his arm around her, hugging her tightly. The warmth of his body completely engulfs her like a blaze. “You were only doing your duty as a—as a wife.” His voice breaks at the end, as if he’s also mourning his own position._

_It’s all so tragic — everything about this. The whole time Bernard was inside her earlier, she cried just the way she did when her husband had his way around her, only the tears that were streaming down her cheeks were the relieved tears. Finally being in the arms where she belonged._

_If only things could be easier than this. Less complicated. If only she weren’t tied to someone else._

_She lifts her head and rests her chin on his chest, her hand reaching up to caress his hair. “You do know that I only belong to you, do you?” she asks, rolling her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m maybe wedded to him but I’m yours and only yours.”_

_His eyes soften as he looks at her. “Come here,” he murmurs before he draws her face towards him to kiss her deeply. “And I’m yours too, my darling, only yours.”_

_Everything is so unfair. So, so unfair. “When can we run away together, Bernard?” she ponders out loud, guiding her thumb down to his lips. She pulls his lower lip down until he kisses her thumb._

_He sighs, grabbing her wrist to kiss where her pulse is. “We need a more elaborate plan, my love,” he explains gently. “We can’t simply make haste of this if we don’t want him to tail us. I found this passage where we could use so that our escape is unknown. All I need is a ship because travelling across the sea is the best for now.”_

_That’s the dream, isn’t it? To be able to just flee. Leave this horrid place, leave her harrowing husband. She and her lover could finally love freely. She can finally be happy._

_“Soon,” he promises. “This will all be over soon. We’ll take up a new identity, change our name, build our own life together. We’ll marry, we’ll have children together. Have our own family.”_

_She chokes up as she laughs, already dreaming of this perfect life. The sight he’s telling her flashes before her eyes. Living somewhere serene where they could raise their children together. It’s all she has ever wanted._

_He’s quick to catch her tears with his thumb before he cups her cheek. She slowly unwinds, resting her head in his palm._

_________________ 

She looks between her brother and Vicrul. "You were setting me up with him?" she questions her brother, blinking in confusion. 

Armie nods, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, I thought you guys would click and apparently I'm right. How did you two meet?" 

Vicrul tries to answer. "Well, we met at the bar—" 

"It was fate," she cuts him off, not wanting Armie to know that she went behind him. "Just... fate." 

For a moment, Vicrul is the one that seems confused before he nods, smiling at her. "Yeah, fate." 

"Also, who's Ben Solo?" she asks quizzically. 

Her brother just snorts. "The guy you have to stay away from,” he says. The way he says Ben Solo sounds so bitter. “He's the one I told you about at the laundromat. I think someone made a mistake, I'm not sure why did they seat you with him when Vicrul is supposed to sit here." 

Like a gentleman he is, Vicrul just shakes his head. "Oh nah, it's fine. The thing I would never mess with is the seating chart, to be honest. My cousin got married recently and the bride went _insane_ when someone told her that the seating chart feels wrong. My advice is that you don't interfere with this whole thing." 

She just sighs dreamily as she stares at him. He looks good in his tux and the way he talks about weddings is a huge turn-on. 

"But you and I could still dance, can we?" he asks, his eyes are hopeful before they check her out. "You look beautiful, by the way."

Her cheeks turn crimson at his compliment. "Thank you. Of course I'll save you a dance." 

He just smirks, thrusting his hands in his pockets. "Great." 

She turns to her brother. "I'm sure this is all just a mistake. I already have a date so you don't have to worry about me around this... Ben Solo guy." 

Armie just exhales through his nostrils, nodding as he's assured. "Good. Also I'm kind of impressed with my matchmaking skills." 

That makes her snort. 

"Well, while this Ben Solo hasn't arrived yet, perhaps I should sit here for a while until he's here?" Vicrul suggests. 

She smiles, nodding. "Yeah, that would be great. Where do you sit?" 

He gestures across the dance floor, which is kind of far away. "Somewhere over there." 

They both take their own seats at the same time. She could feel a hot stare drilling a hole in her but she ignores that feeling, 

"I'm gonna to find Rose," Armie says, excusing himself. "You two... uh, talk." 

She just shakes her head at her brother. "Okay." Then she turns to her supposed date slash soulmate. "So, you're a friend of the bride?" 

"We went to the same university," he tells her. "Actually, I used to have a crush on Paige funnily enough. But obviously that's an old story now. She and her whole family are like my own family actually, that's how close we are." 

"Aww," she sings, clutching her chest. "That is nice!" 

After a while of them conversing, she wonders why hasn't this Ben Solo arrived yet. She knows she should be thankful that she still has time to get to know Vicrul but after sometime, time just feels so... slow. He's great but somehow she dreads for the conversation to be over. The sooner this Ben Solo arrives, the sooner she can get rid of Vicrul. Is that bad? She even makes him get some food for herself so she doesn’t have to talk to him more.

She's not even sure why this all feels off. This is the man she dreamed about, right? Shouldn't they have more chemistry? After a while, she finds herself nodding to what he's saying while her ears begin to mute out more and more of his words while she eats quietly. 

"I'm gonna head to the bar and get myself some merlot," she finally says after sometime. Then reluctantly, she asks, "Do you... want to come with me?" 

He shakes his head. "Oh, well, I'm going to the bathroom. This Ben Solo is gonna show up anyway. I'll see you later for that promised dance?" 

She smiles at him. "Can't wait!" she exclaims and grimaces at how over enthusiastic does she sound. 

As soon as he scurries away, she makes her way to the bar. It’s odd how walking to the bar somehow feels like a familiar track to her. Like this is where she should be and the bar is exactly the direction she should be heading towards. But then again, she just needs a drink so that’s probably why. 

Her heart is telling her that this is a pivotal moment so she pays attention to the song that’s playing right now. They’re playing some fucking Norah Jones’ song, _Come Away With Me_ , which amuses her because she has no idea that people still listen to Norah Jones. 

“A glass of merlot, please,” she tells the bartender, taking a seat on the stool.

The bartender grabs a bottle of Château and places a glass right in front of her. She watches as he pours until the last drop. “You’re lucky, this is the last bottle,” he remarks.

She frowns, grabbing the glass. “You can’t simply run out of merlot right when the reception is just beginning?” 

He just smirks at her. “There’s still more, but not as good as this one.”

At least she _sort of_ got lucky tonight. If she’s not getting laid tonight, at least she still has this last drop of Château. 

As she’s about to sip her drink, someone appears beside her and orders specifically a glass of Château. Her brows perk up in interest at the sound of the deepest voice she has ever heard, and not the arrogant kind either. Maybe it’s a weird thought but that’s the kindest deep voice she has ever heard. The kind she would love to tell her a bedtime story right before she falls asleep. 

Or talk dirty to her, God knows. 

“Sorry, this madam here got the last one,” the bartender says. “You two could settle it yourselves.” 

Madam? She’s not sure if she should be offended or honoured by that. She turns her head to look at the owner of the kind deep voice when the sight startles her, almost swallowing her tongue. He has also turned to look at her at the same time as she does. 

Suddenly she’s tongue tied as she basically gawks at him, something has completely swept her off. For one, he’s the most beautiful man she has ever laid eyes on. Hair curves on all right places, a sharp nose that belongs to a statue in the museum, lips so plump, they’re made for sinning. Freckles and beauty marks dotted around his fair skin. 

And most importantly, he seems so… _familiar._

The most bizarre thing is that his eyes mirror hers. Widened, glistening eyes. Brows furrowing as if he’s trying to place where he has seen her before. The corner of his lips is tilted into a small smile, telling her a thousand of stories. 

“Is there a way we could split that merlot?” is the first thing he utters to her, his voice is as deep as… whiskey. So low and gravelly. 

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, she snorts in front of this stranger whom she has never met although she swears she has seen him before. “I’m sorry, but you’re too late. I got here first, therefore I deserve this.” 

His eyes crinkle as he smiles — the most beautiful smile she has ever seen — before he takes a seat next to her. “Well, _madam,”_ causing her to squint her eyes at him while he acts all casual, “I’ve had a bad day today. Up until I have the pleasure of meeting you, of course. My car broke down in the middle of nowhere, there was no service when I tried to call a tow truck or something and now I’m late to my own cousin’s wedding. I think I deserve maybe a little sip of that.” 

The smile never wipes off her face as she listens intently to him. “Well, sir,” she shoots back, although that just sounds like deja vu. She eyes the way his suit hugs his chest. “Those are very nice points. I hear you. However, _I_ got here first.” 

That makes him chuckle, shaking his head. “Won’t you take pity on me?” he asks, flashing those puppy eyes to her. “What if I give you 20 dollars?” 

She throws her head back as she laughs. “You know the drinks are complimentary for wedding guests, right?” 

“Exactly,” he points out, his lips quirk into a small smile. He seems like he’s refraining himself from smiling, resulting in his eyes being the ones that are smiling. The way he’s staring at her is almost inquisitive. Curious. “I’m willing to give you 20 dollars for your free drink.” 

She plays with the rim of the glass with the pad of her finger, smirking when his eyes follow the movement. “You must be so desperate for this. I mean, aren’t you parched right now? There are thousands of options in the beverage menu that you can just order from instead of bargaining with me for _my_ drink.” 

His eyes lifted up to her face, those honey eyes glinting invitingly. Immediately sucking her in. “I don’t know if you believe me but it feels like I’ve waited my _whole_ life for that merlot.” 

Funny. That’s exactly what she’s feeling too. She couldn’t help but smile as their eyes just linger on each other. 

“Fine,” she decides. “I’ll give you just some of my drink. Enough for you to taste it. How about that?” 

He smirks. It’s insane that all he’s doing is smirking but his dimple is already deepening. That’s how deep both of his dimples are. “That is more than enough,” he acquiesces. Then he gestures to the bartender to give him one shot glass. 

As soon as the bartender hands the glass, the stranger glances at her. “Do you want to do the honour or do I?” he asks, playing with the glass that just emphasises the size of his hands. 

“I’ll do it just to be fair,” she says, reaching out to take the glass from his hand. 

But when their hands accidentally touch, she feels a jolt, making her gasp. 

From the way he reacts, she knows that he feels it too. 

They both drink in silence. It’s not that bad actually, the silence that fills the air between them. It doesn’t feel awkward or anything, it’s the _comfortable_ kind of silence. 

“This might sound crazy,” he says, breaking the silence. “But do you want to get out of here?” 

She looks at the dance floor where her brother is dancing with his girlfriend. Then she turns her gaze to the man whose name she hasn’t learned yet. It _does_ sound crazy, she has no idea who this is. She could just solve this problem by asking him. _What’s your name? Are you here for the bride or the groom? Or did you crash the wedding?_

The rest of the world disappears right when she looks at the mystery man. It’s odd, she’s pretty sure she just fell in love with him. The feeling surges like an avalanche, so unexpected. How there are butterflies in her stomach. How her eyes focus on him and only him. How she’s ready to risk it all just for him. How she could see their future just by looking at him in the eye. 

But love at first sight doesn’t exist, doesn’t it? 

“Sure,” she answers without missing a beat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmmmm, let’s see if the mysterious man is, in fact, Hozier 🤔


	4. so tell me to run, or dare to sit and watch what we'll become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Few moments more, my darling. This will all be over and we can finally be together wholly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s to pain and love

_It’s the afternoon of a weekend. Mrs. Fairchild next door has secretly handed her the letters that she has her lover send to, through Mrs. Fairchild’s address, in case her husband checks the mail. She’s grateful for Mrs. Fairchild for understanding the predicament she’s under. At first Rachel was horrified when her neighbour saw her kissing Bernard but apparently she understood, telling her she once had her very own lover that she had her own clandestine meetings with since her parents scorned who she wanted to be with._

_Because she fell in love with a woman._

_Slipping the letter in her book that she’s pretending to read, she’s careful as she sits on her recliner while her husband is outside, tending to his plants that he has grown. Apparently he’s planning to join the fair, attempting his best to grow the biggest watermelon he could grow. It’s also one of her few leisure times where she could find her own solitude, skimming her very own comfort in the shape of words._

_Each of his words somehow sings to her like a warm embrace._

> _My darling Rachel,_
> 
> _I truly wish I’m there with you, every hour, every minute, every second. As I write this (though, I believe this is more a scribbling as I try to express my deep thoughts and feelings in this letter since words cannot fathom how I burn for you), I’m currently in my office in town, waiting for the next patient. Do know that I carry each of your words to my heart, that your letters mean much more than just a piece of paper. Your words are all I need to get by as I wake up every morning. Do also know that my words are from the very bottom of my heart and my soul._
> 
> _As romantic letters are, I always wish I could come home everyday and I’m able to tell you about my day. Even the most mundane thing, I would never even dare to skip a single part of my everyday life. Every newsboy I see, every dog that passes by the street I see, every kid that runs around the town I see. Do you know why, my darling?_
> 
> _It’s because you consume my_ _every_ _fervent thought. Every time something occurs, I look to my side as if you’re there, wishing that you’re seeing everything that I’m seeing. We would have a laugh, or we would just share a knowing look because when we’re together, nothing else matters. We could read each other so well, we know exactly what we’re both thinking._
> 
> _Today I had this patient who brought along his wife with him in my office. They never let go of each other’s hands as he went through a necessary procedure to heal. At the beginning he was anxious. It was his first visit to the doctor. But one look he shared with his wife and he visibly calmed down._
> 
> _I recognised that look they shared. I_ _immediately_ _thought of you. I recognise that look in us. In the way we look at each other. It’s the look of love and trust._
> 
> _One day we’ll be open about our love, my sweet darling. All I want is to be able to hold your hand wherever I am, to be able to kiss you wherever I am, to be able to hold you wherever I am, to be able to just be_ _close_ _to you. Whether in private or in public. I have never regretted a single thing from the moment I lay my eyes upon you. What we’re going through is terrible, but I believe this is just a drought that one day we will be able to rise from._
> 
> _I truly believe you and I belong to each other. Nothing, not even your marriage could hinder that. I have already made plans for us. We’ll live in this secluded farm, far, far away from here. A friend of mine has a distant cousin who owns this spacious land. We could live there, my darling. All you have to do is pack what you need and wait for me where we always meet when the time is right._
> 
> _Few moments more, my darling. This will all be over and we can finally be together wholly. Although time has always been unjust to me when I’m not with you. Minutes feel like hours, hours feel like days, days feel like months. Even though we’re not able to see each other often, my time where I spend with you is all that swirls around my mind while the rest of my time without you passes by obscurely. Just a fog shrouding aimlessly. That is my life without you._
> 
> _Anxiously waiting for your answer and your beautiful thoughts so I can carry it with me everyday as if you’re always with me by my side. Looking forward to seeing you very, very soon._
> 
> _I love you with all my heart, body, and soul._
> 
> _Yours devotedly and ardently,_
> 
> **_Bernard Charles Smith_ **

  
  


_She doesn’t even realise the tears welling up her eyes until she sees a drop of tears on the letter. She can hear his voice in this letter and she can feel his arms around her as she reads this. This letter is his own voice, solely his. It’s a part of himself._

_That’s when she realises that she doesn’t want to wait anymore. She is done waiting. It’s time for her to change her own fate and her destiny._

_This ends now._

_________________

When no one is looking, they manage to slip out to an empty ballroom next to the one where the wedding is held. He jimmies the backdoor of the hall and just like that, the door is opened. He turns to her and grins. 

"Shall we, milady?" he asks. 

Her heart is racing out of anxiousness that they might be breaking some rules here but she just nods. "We shall, sire." 

That makes him laugh, pushing the door opened so she could enter first. 

There is no one in here. The ceilings are so high up, that every time they talk, their voice echoes. All of the chairs are placed upright on the tables. She decides to pull one of them and place it on the floor so she could sit to unbuckle the strap of her heels and take off her shoes. She places her glass of merlot on the table before she removes her shoes from her feet. 

"So much better," she sighs, standing up on her bare feet. 

He locks the door with a click. Even though she’s alone with a stranger she just met in an empty ballroom behind a locked door, somehow she doesn’t feel too anxious. Something about him makes her feel safe. She knows deep in her gut that she can trust him. 

From this height, she's surprised just by how tall he is, towering over her. She barely reaches his height in her heels, yet she's still astonished. 

Not just tall. He's... broad. Massive. Really filling his suit. 

She takes the time to _really_ take him in. His hair is not really long but he could have just had a haircut. It does look thick. Thick enough to have the same hairstyle as the guy in her dream has. 

But she tries not to hold out any hope. The man in her dreams might not exist. They were just dreams. 

Were they? 

"Do you want to dance?" he asks, offering his hand. “I mean, it _is_ a wedding.” 

She sucks in a deep breath, looking at his hand that he has reached out for her. It's just a dance. It's a wedding. Dancing is inevitable. Dancing with strangers is inevitable. Yet somehow she just stares at his hand like he's asking her to marry her or something, which is stupid. 

What if she feels the jolt again? That sparks flying feeling just from hands brushing against each other? What if this is him? 

And he just waits patiently, never lowering his hand. Instead, he extends it towards her. Urging her. His fingers tremble. 

Finally she takes his hand, his freezing fingers enclosing around her hand, the coldness prickling her bones. This time, she feels a rush of familiarity, almost as if she has held his hand before. Her eyes sting with tears because never once has she felt like she's at home the way she does now. She feels his other hand moving around her, placing his palm on her back. Pulling her towards him until her chest is flushed against his, the spiced leather scent wafting her nose. The material of her dress is so thin that she could feel how cold his palm is. 

She lifts her eyes to look at him while he guides the hand he's not holding on his shoulder. It's easy to fall back into routine as they both sway to the muffled music from the ballroom across the hall. 

Have they done this before? 

His eyes are warm as they hold her gaze, untethered. She couldn't help but notice just how handsome he is. Everything is sculpted nicely even if everything is slightly crooked. Her eyes trail along his freckles and moles. 

“Have we ever slept together before?” he breaks the silence, making her burst out laughing.

“What?” she sputters. “No.” 

He scrunches up his nose, smiling. “Really? It’s just… you look so familiar but I can’t put a place on it. But you… I feel like I would _definitely_ remember you if we’ve ever met before.” 

She refrains herself from laughing as she shakes her head. “Well, I’ve only slept with two guys and you’re not one of them. Because I dated both of them.” 

He hums, frowning in confusion. “It’s just crazy. I just… I swear I’ve seen you before but, well.” 

And then they continue dancing. She takes the time to study his face. Paying attention to the colour of his eyes. Earlier, they’re honey. Now they’re a little greener, but she can still see the gold flecks. 

“Have you been to Takodana bar?” he asks. 

_The one time you weren’t there, yes._ “Uh, no.”

He humphs. “Manhattan?” 

“Like… _years_ ago.”

“Central Park, New York?” 

She snorts. “Never. I rarely go to New York.” 

“Seventh—”

“Why are you interrogating me?” she remarks, laughing a little. 

He sighs, shaking his head. “It’s just… I’m still trying to pinpoint where I’ve seen you before.” 

She tilts her head. “Well, maybe we haven’t. Maybe… in your dreams.” 

That makes him chuckle, nodding. “I barely remember my dreams.” 

“No?” she asks, piqued. 

He shakes his head. “I do remember there are always bizarre things that happen in my dreams, you know. I can just, I don’t know, I can feel it.. But when I wake up, I just… can’t remember the details. But I know that it’s not just darkness, you know. Like, I know I dreamed something. But my brain just blacks out the moment I wake up. The dreams are just gone.” 

She nods, completely understanding what he means. “I get those dreams too, sometimes. But I almost always remember mine. They’re always so vivid — solid and clear. But…” She shuts herself up before she says anything more. 

“But what?” he prods. 

Part of her sort of wants to tell him everything. Something about him makes her want to say everything she wants. Like catching up with old friends and shit like that. She gulps. “But in the end, when I wake up, I can only make out small details.” 

He offers her a sympathetic look. “It can be quite frustrating if it’s a good one.” 

She smiles. “Yeah.” She bites her lip, thinking about her dream again. “It just felt so real.” 

“I feel you,” he murmurs. “My dreams… they always feel like a memory, you know. But when I wake up, the images completely vanish from my mind, although there are still hints that I had the dream. Like…” His brows furrowed in concentration. “Maybe I wake up drenched in sweat. Or I just gasp and just like that I’m back in my bedroom. Something in the dream always stirs and wakes me up. Do I make sense?” 

Her throat dries so she swallows. “Yeah, it—it makes sense,” she replies almost vacantly. 

He clears his throat. “Anyway, I’m boring you.” 

She shakes her head vigorously. “No, no, it’s interesting,” she assures him. “It’s just bizarre so it gets me thinking.” 

He tilts his head almost adorably. “Yeah? What’s on your mind?” 

That makes her blush. It’s stupid but no one has really asked her that. Is that dumb? To blush over that? “How we can see strangers in our dreams. People we have never met before. Whether we have met them in passing? Like in a crowd but somehow our brain memorises that.” 

“I have a theory about that,” he offers. “That truthfully, our brain can actually make up new faces. For example… okay, you have three best friends. Um… shit, I suck at making up names. Ross, Joey, and Chandler.” 

She laughs at the reference, nodding. 

He always smiles whenever she smiles. “So your brain just mixes these three people’s features. In your dream, this guy has Ross’ eyes, Joey’s nose, and Chandler’s mouth.”

“Like FaceApp,” she suggests. 

“What’s FaceApp?” he asks, frowning. 

That makes her giggle again. “You don’t know FaceApp?” 

“I assume it’s an app?” he asks, smirking. 

She rolls her eyes. “You’re such an old man,” she quips almost naturally. Like they have been friends for ages. Friends or… a bickering couple. 

Which is ridiculous since they’re, well, they don’t know each other. 

“So I’ve been told,” he says with a chuckle. 

“But how about a dream where…” She blows out her breath, wondering if she should just say it. “Hypothetically speaking, this person in your dream always appears in your dream. But uh, their face is always not clear. Like you can’t see them but you… you _sense_ them. You feel this deep connection. You get me?” 

His face is unreadable as she said that. But he is definitely not smiling anymore. “Huh,” he mumbles. 

“What is it?” she asks, chewing her lower lip. 

He shakes his head, the colour has completely drained out of his skin because now he just seems white. “Nothing.” He chuckles nervously. 

She nods, inching closer until she can tuck her chin on his shoulder. She breathes in his scent which makes her feel sort of like a weirdo but he smells kind of nice. It’s not just the cologne — woodsy and spiced. But it just smells like coming home. It doesn’t make sense but he really smells like a memory. 

His hand sprawls on the small of her back, spanning her whole back. It’s warmer now — his palm. She can feel his heartbeat against her chest, so loud and brisk. It might be hers too.

"Do you ever find yourself holding your wedding reception at a hotel?" he asks after sometime.

"Hmm, I did have my wedding reception at a hotel," she taunts. 

In a slow motion, she watches his face sinking in disappointment. "Y-You're married," he states, almost dropping his hands off her. Still, he doesn't let her go. 

After holding a serious expression, she finally breaks as she grins. "I'm kidding, I'm not married," she corrects herself, watching the relief on his face. "I would demand to have a big diamond on my wedding ring that I would show off but I'm not even wearing one." She removes her hand from his shoulder to show him. 

He exhales through his nose, tightening his grip on her waist again. "That wasn't funny," he deadpans. 

"Is that your creative way of asking if I were single or something?" she teases. "Unless this is not your way of flirting." 

"Oh, you think I'm flirting?" he counters. 

She holds her gaze. "Are you not?" She glances at his lips. "Asking me if we could get out of here. Bringing me to an empty ballroom, away from everyone. Dancing with me." 

He smirks. "I think you'll know when I make a move on you." 

"Mmhmm, sure," she says, unconvinced. 

"So are you?" he queries. 

"Am I what?" 

All of the sudden, he dips her, making her gasp. He pulls her up towards him again doing it so gracefully. She, however, is not as she almost stumbled on her feet. 

But he smiles though, unaffected by her clumsiness. "Are you seeing anyone?" he questions. 

_Yes, I'm dating someone who keeps appearing in my dream._ What if she says that? What if he's the one who keeps appearing in her dream? She doesn't say anything. 

"Are you dating that guy you came here with?" 

She tilts her head. "You saw me earlier?" 

His cheeks redden. "Uh." He swallows. "I really didn't know there would be no more bottles of merlot, though. That was... a divine intervention." 

"Divine intervention," she deadpans. "I'd say it was just a coincidence." 

"Sure, you can keep telling yourself that," he says, his eyes are dancing with amusement. "I'm just glad I could dance with a pretty girl." 

"You think I'm pretty?" she teases. 

The question seems to humour him from the way he's looking at her. "Do you not think you're pretty?" he shoots back although she could see that he's blushing again. "You have to know you're beautiful." 

Something about the way he says that causes her chest to flutter. It's just a compliment, no big deal. 

A _sincere_ compliment, if his tone indicates anything. 

"No," she answers after a while. 

"No, you don't agree with me?" 

"No, I'm not seeing anyone." Her tongue darts out as she licks her lips, watching him nervously. He follows the movement of her tongue.

The relief is apparent on his face as he exhales through his mouth. "Neither am I," he replies with a smirk. 

She laughs to cover the reason she's blushing. Truth is, she's deeply affected from the way he's smirking at her, gazing at her as if he could burn her just from his eyes. Is it possible for him to intrude her just by looking at her like this? 

"No, but in all seriousness, you keep dodging my question," he jokes. "Didn't I ask about your opinion on having your wedding reception at a hotel?" 

“What, was that a genuine question?" she stammers, surprised. "Not just some... I don't know, a gimmick or... a pickup line." 

He snorts. "I am _very_ curious about your future wedding preparations, thank you very much."

She sighs, pondering her answer. "Well, if you _must_ know..." 

"I do," he assures her. “I do want to know.”

Gosh, she doesn't even know his name and now she's pondering about her own future wedding preparation. "Hmm, hotels can be convenient so I don't have to think hard on where the guests could stay overnight.” 

She checks to see if he’s still listening. He is and he seems kind of invested. Great listening skills, she sees. 

“But, I'm thinking,” she continues, as if this is interesting to talk about, “If I can't _afford_ my actual dream wedding, I think having reception at a greenhouse sounds pretty nice. But if I were richer, I would definitely get married at a museum. Maybe in my hometown, Birmingham." 

He nods, seeming impressed. "I never thought of that." 

"What, getting married at a museum?" she asks. 

"Yeah," he nods. "That sounds perfect. If no one feels like dancing, they could just check out the galleries."

"Yes!" she beams.

"And there are some... great places," he trails off, leaning closer. "Where the bride and groom could go before they embark on their honeymoon. Somewhere memorable. Maybe... against the paintings."

When he uses that voice, he just sounds even more sexual. Low and raspy. She would be lying if she said she's not affected by any of this. 

She clears her throat, averting her gaze. “Yes, uh, that’s also a great point.” She slowly glances back at him. “How about you? Are you ever thinking of getting married?” 

He smirks. “I’m not so opposed if I find the right person.” His hand trails lower to the small of her back, his pinky brushing against her ass. “I’ll let her decide as long as I’m with her.” 

Is it just her or is talking about weddings kind of hot? 

It feels like they're having a silent communication at this point just by looking at her — or they're speaking telepathically. Because right then and there, her mind is made up and so does his. 

_________________

_Her husband is already sound asleep when she slowly pulls herself up. It's dark outside and he usually wakes up at the crack of dawn. Her heart is palpitating as she hops off the bed. When the floor creaks, she closes her eyes in fear, tiptoeing. She's only in her sleeping gown but she has to get out of here._

_Still, she turns to inspect him. He's snoring audibly, which makes her sigh in relief. It's hard to breathe softly but she tries. She tries to even stop breathing. The staircase is the thing she's deathly afraid of, because of how loud the floor is. She steps down carefully, one by one, hoping not to wake him up. Making as little noise as possible._

_As soon as she reaches the door, she doesn't even bother to put on her boots. She just grabs them and her coat before she dashes the door and beats feet just like she does everyday, except this time with determination._

_This time, she's not coming back. She refuses to. She couldn't wait anymore — all she wants is Bernard, Bernard, Bernard._

_She puts on her coat while sprinting, one hand is holding her boots. It's a struggle but she wouldn't dare stop running. Wouldn't dare slow down. She keeps slipping in the mud, the dirt immediately splashes on her sleeping gown but she refuses to let that deter her to see the love of her life. It's freezing, her feet feel like they're turning into stones and they're coming off and at times, she accidentally steps on the twigs that hurt the sole of her feet._

_But still, nothing hurts more than being with someone she couldn't possibly love. She knows if she tells her husband the truth, she'll face hell. So running away is the only way._

_For a moment, it feels like she could see the light at the end of the tunnel. She's leaving it all behind — the happily ever after is just within her reach. So she chases it, that light she could reach. She never looks back. Instead she just runs and runs and runs — come what may. The moonlight is shining bright tonight as if the world is on her side._

_When she sees his house, she tries her best to catch her breath as she basically crawls towards his door from the exhaustion. Just a few moments more and then it will all be over._

_She hurriedly knocks on his door a couple of times, her breathing is all laboured. Her whole body is shaking as she waits impatiently, knocking the door again and again. "Bernard, open the door please, darling," she begs, panting._

_Time feels so slow as she waits. She keeps glancing behind, terrified if_ he’s _tailing behind her. She knocks again, pounding on it. Calling his name over and over as anxiousness takes over._

_The door finally swings open to reveal a half asleep Bernard, his hair is all mussed. "Rachel?" he asks, clearing his throat when he hears how raspy his voice is._

_"We need to leave tonight," she blurts out frantically, clutching his pyjamas. "Please, we have to go now. We have to run now before the sun comes up and my husband wakes up. Please, darling, please."_

_He still looks confused but he nods anyway, dragging her inside. "Let me put on a shirt. Aren't you freezing? You're only wearing your sleeping gown."_

_"We have no time for a small talk, darling, we have to go," she rushes out breathlessly, fear completely taking over her. She makes sure the door is locked properly in case they’re not hasty enough. "Hurry."_

_It's clear that his mind is still hazy from the sleep he was having before she barged on his door. He searches blindly for his shirt in his closet while she bites her nail, waiting anxiously. “At least put on my jacket,” he chides while he rubs his eyes._

_Quickly she snatches his jacket that he has hung, instantly warming herself up. “Hurry, darling,” she pleads, clutching her own chest. “Make haste.”_

_He’s finally able to put on one of his shirts._

_"I really hope we still have time before he hunts us down," she gasps, her stomach couldn't stop churning. She leans on the door, ready to unlock the door when he’s ready._

_Suddenly there is a loud knock on the door, making both of them jump. Her throat tightens up because that’s her husband on the other side of the door. She rushes towards Bernard who’s still buttoning his shirt, either to be protected or protect him in case that's her husband._

_"OPEN THE DOOR," her husband’s voice blares from the other side of the door. “I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?


	5. what would he do if he found us out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I know we’ll meet again someday.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW: gun , death**
> 
> haha get ready babes

It’s one of those nights where time doesn’t make sense. 

It’s one of those conversations where it lasts forever but at the same time, the time feels like it flies so fast probably because they don’t want this to end. Or just her. She’s the one who doesn’t want this night to be over. 

They go from sitting cross legged on the floor, facing each other to leaning against the wall, her head on his shoulder. Their conversation varies, from their hobbies _(“I’m not exactly a hobby guy,” he says. “Oh thank god, me too,” she breathes out. Both of them giggle in front of each other.)_ to some more personal questions, _(“My dad was absent most of the time during my childhood,” he murmurs with his mouth in her hair. “He and I… it’s complicated but I used to idolise him. It sucks when your own hero disappoints you.”)_ to a heavier topic, _(“It felt like my heart was ripped out when the cops arrived at our door and mentioned my parents’ names,” she confesses sullenly, their fingers intertwining. “My brother had to remain composed even though he was still young that time — both of us were, while I was behind him, feeling like throwing up.”)._ Sometimes their conversation gets random. _(“If you could choose to live in any decade, which decade would you want to live in?” she asks with a grin. “Definitely the 80s so I can get away with my horrible music taste,” he answers, earning a slap on the shoulder from her. He lets out a guffaw.)_

She’s not sure what time it is. It could be dawn, it could have only been an hour, but she doesn’t care. She wants to stay here forever. 

There’s no telling how this happens, but she finds herself in his arms, lips flushed on his. 

It’s real. She sees it behind her eyes — the sparks flying, the whole firework when his lips are on hers. Usually with other partners, it takes time before they’re able to reach the synchronisation in their kiss. There might be teeth clacking or nose bumping on cheek, shit like that. 

But not with him. It’s all natural — their lips just fit together like a puzzle. His fingers thread her hair, her hands are on his neck, his free hand is flushed on her waist. 

Her heart is racing as he ravishes her lips and her neck. Here she is, at a wedding, being pinned on the wall while a stranger she has just met has his whole body flushed onto hers until she feels literally everything while he never tears his lips off of her. 

Yet last week, when the man she asked out to be her date to a wedding asked if there was anywhere she wanted to go, she simply refused. Taking her time. 

Now she's making out with a different man she just met 20 minutes ago at an empty ballroom where they managed to sneak in.

It all comes into place all too naturally for some reason she can't explain. It's as if she has done this a couple of times — by _this,_ she means the kiss. And being touched by him. And basically everything when it comes to him. The way his deft hands explore her body, almost having her memorised. Like he has mapped out her body before. 

With every searing touch and kiss, he somehow has brought her back to life, which is funny because she hasn't been dead before. As far as she's concerned. Her heart is beating for him, her body is moving at his own accord, it's all just a delicate dance. 

“The merlot tastes better from your mouth,” he groans against her lips.

"Oh god," she breathes out before he folds her leg against his hip. 

He groans against her skin, his hand is so close to slipping under the slit of her dress. He starts nibbling her ear, lifting her up until her legs are wrapped around his hips. "Tell me your name, baby," he rumbles. “I need to know.” 

Shit. They don't even know each other's names and they’ve basically known more about each other than they know their own friends. "It wouldn't be fun if we use real names, right?" she whimpers before she gasps as his hand finds its way to her thongs. "I don't want anything from this night to be tarnished by—by reality." 

His finger is teasing but he hasn't put his hand where she needs. "You really don't want to tell me your real name?" His eyes are soft as they stare at her. 

"It's more fun this way, isn't it?" she asks, leaning her head on the wall. 

And then he prods her cunt with his finger. Everything about this feels like deja vu. "Fine," he tuts, circling her clit. "You can moan out Kylo then." 

It's hard to speak when he's making her feel so good like this. Yes, this is a wedding hookup but, fuck, it feels more than that. "K-Kira," she chokes out as he applies pressure on her clit. She circles her arm around his shoulders, nuzzling his neck. "You can call me Kira." 

"You’re magnificent, Kira," he marvels raspily, teasing her cunt while his thumb is circling her clit. 

"Oh god," she cries out when he inserts one finger inside her. Her name on his lips would have been hotter. It feels like he has put a spell on her. This feeling goes beyond logic.

His breath ghosts her lips. “Fuck, what have you done to me?” he mumbles. 

The anticipation is killing her, but it’s also spurring her on. She keeps rocking her hips to chase his fingers. “P-Please, Kylo.” 

Her phone buzzes from her purse. At first she ignores it as she lets him pump his finger in and out of her. He adds another finger, moving around until he finds that spot and just crooks his fingers inside her. 

His breath is on her neck. "You're gonna answer that?" he taunts before he nibbles her ear until she’s even more reluctant to escape from him.

"No," she answers hurriedly, so lost in the deep pleasure that he's giving her. “Just keep going, please.” 

So he does what he’s told. Shattering her world just with his fingers while she submits to him.

How has she never felt this way with any of her partners? It’s insane how a stranger could give her this intricate intense feeling, the kind of feeling that’s both palpable and somehow spiritual. It’s almost confusing. 

“You’re so good, darling, so good,” he chants, making her still at the deja vu. 

“Say that again,” she begs, her heart is pounding so violently. 

“You’re so good—” 

“Call me darling, again,” she breathes out. 

He pulls himself away to stare into her eyes, never stopping the thrust of his fingers. His eyes are gleaming and she’s so lost in them. “Darling,” he utters with a voice so thick with lust and desire. 

She swallows her breath staggeringly, blinking. It’s overwhelming, this feeling that's blooming her chest. It’s strong, it’s taking over her whole body, it’s almost so heavy that she finds it hard to breath. 

He opens his mouth, visibly confused, “Kira, I—” He closes his mouth again, the word dies on his tongue. He tries again after taking a deep breath. “I think I’m in lo—” 

But the phone never stops buzzing. She mutes the noise, instead she’s bucking her hips to meet the cadence of Kylo's fingers. The orgasm slowly builds inside her, threatening to ripple. _“Don't stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,”_ she beseeches, tucking her nose in the crook of his neck. “Fuck!”

He holds onto her, angling his fingers around until he finds that spot. “I got you,” he murmurs, kissing her hair. “I got you, my darling. Just let go.” 

She tries to muffle her sounds by biting his neck while she cries out, convulsing. Her body trembles when she gushes around his fingers, miking them. 

For a moment, they just stare at each other, pondering what they have done. He slowly withdraws his fingers out of her and looks at his soaked fingers, like he’s just processing what just happened in the past, what, an hour? 

Her phone buzzes again and she’s quick to get herself away from the wall, checking the screen of her phone to see Armie’s name. She doesn’t answer, instead she clicks the end button and keeps phone in her purse. “I’m gonna go,” she says, putting on her shoes. 

He hasn’t wiped his fingers or anything. Instead, he just clenches his hand into a fist and unclenches it a couple of times. The reluctance is discernible on his handsome face as he bares his teeth. But he nods. “I’ll see you out there?” he asks with those puppy eyes. 

She smiles, approaching him to kiss his lips. “Maybe,” she murmurs. 

Without sparing another glance, she unlocks the door and walks out of the ballroom. 

* * *

_"What do we do?" she frantically asks the love of her life, trying to catch her breath even though it's difficult when her heart feels like it's jumping out of her throat right now._

_Bernard places his hands on her hips, both of them walking backwards. "We have to hide or find a way to get out of here," he says, gripping her hips. He looks more alert now._

_Tears welling up her eyes as she stares at the door, wondering how they should survive. Her face pales, wondering if this is how it’s going to end._

_"I know you're in there, Rachel," her husband sings, making her skin crawl. "Open the door now or it will end very, very badly."_

_Rachel starts sobbing while clamping her mouth shut so that he won't hear her. She looks around to find a way to escape. "I'm terrified, Bernard," she hiccups. "He's going to kill us. He's going to either shoot us or burn this house to the ground."_

_"Come out, Rachel!" her husband growls, fist pounding on the door. The hinges rattle, threatening to give._

_"Can’t we escape through the backdoor?" she asks in a hushed tone._

_Bernard heaves loudly behind her, his heartbeat is loud against the back of her head. "There's nothing at the back, only a fence to the neighbour’s land. We have to circle around the house in order to run and he’ll still catch us."_

_This is bad. This is really, really bad. Just horrible. "I don't want to die, Bernard," she chokes out when the door handle is rattled. Her husband pounds on the door again. “I just want to be with you.”_

_But as Bernard wraps his arms around her, suddenly the idea of death is not so bad anymore. She believes that no matter where they are, she will end up with the love of her life. She believes that Bernard is the love of her life. If she has to die, she’s just glad that she’ll die in her lover’s arms._

_That they both are together as her husband burns the house to the ground._

_She turns around and glances at Bernard’s face to see that there isn’t any fear on his face. He has her and she has him. He does look sorry though, probably because he’s not able to save both of them. Her lips tremble as she cries._

_“I love you,” she tells him, grabbing his hand to kiss his knuckles._

_His eyes soften as they stare at her. No longer fearful. “I love you,” he chokes out. “I’ll give myself away to him so you could live, alright, darling?”_

_She shakes her head. “I’m not afraid of dying anymore,” she confesses, resting her cheek on his knuckles. “We’ll be together. I know we’ll meet again someday.”_

* * *

“Where the fuck have you been?” Armie demands before he immediately composes himself. “I called you many times.” 

She smooths her dress as she takes a seat. “Is this yours?” she asks, motioning to a champagne glass in front of him. 

He’s visibly confused for a moment, just frowning as he stares at the glass. “Oh, uh, yes,” he says, although he still looks like he’s processing what’s going on. 

Without saying anything, she grabs the glass and downs the whole thing in one gulp. After she swallows it all, she exhales. “So you were asking where I was?” 

He squints at her. “Yes.” 

Sometimes she feels like he still sees her as a child. Shaking her head, she faces him stoically. “You know that I’m an adult and adults have wedding hookups all the time, right?” 

“You were hooking up?” he hisses, widening his eyes. 

“Yes, and there’s nothing wrong with that,” she simply states, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t, like, kidnapped or anything.” 

He purses his lips. “What if you were kidnapped, huh?” he chides. “Just because it’s a wedding, doesn’t mean you couldn’t be kidnapped or fucking murdered or something. You could have at least sent me a text or whatever. Send a fucking sock emoji text, maybe.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, chill out,” she mutters, forking the cake on his plate. “Ah, so the bride and the groom have already cut the cake, I see.” She shoves it in her mouth and chews it. She’s fucking starving after, uh, orgasm. “Hmm, butterscotch. What is this cake?” 

But Armie doesn’t seem amused at all. He’s just glowering at her. “Who were you hooking up with? Vicrul has been here the whole time on the dance floor.” 

She looks to the side to see Ben Solo hasn’t arrived yet. That, or she keeps missing him. Maybe he’s out to get himself some food and she will see him later. “Nowhere, I was just at the bar. Having some drinks.” 

“I was there too but I didn’t see you,” he points out. 

“What, you’ve been checking on me the whole time?” she clips almost sharply. “I’m gonna get myself some food. I’m starving.” 

Armie opens his mouth to protest but he makes a better decision by holding back. 

She stands up and walks towards where the buffet is while her eyes wander, looking for him. Kylo or whatever his name is. She doesn’t even realise that she’s causing a long line behind her until someone clears their throat. When she looks behind her, she blushes to see everyone is waiting for her to scoop some food for herself until it’s their turn. 

After filling her plate with some desserts like cakes and strawberries dipped in chocolate syrup, she searches for him in the crowd again. Maybe he’s talking to Rose or something. She looks around to see where he could possibly sit. She feels so pathetic, just searching for him in the crowd. 

“Hey.” 

She jumps in surprise before she spins on her heels to see that it’s only… Vicrul. She clears her throat before she smiles. “Hello,” she chirps, grimacing at her sickly sweet tone. 

He grins. “Hey, where have you been?” he asks casually, thrusting his hands in his pockets. 

Since she’s famished, she takes bites one of the cakes for herself in front of him. She still tries to be as polite as she possibly could though, eating with her mouth closed and all that. “I was, uh, here and there,” she answers after swallowing her food. “Mingling.” 

The disappointment is apparent on his face as he nods. “Right,” he says. “It’s just… we haven’t gotten the chance to dance yet. You and me.” 

Oh. Crap. She takes another bite of the cake, smiling sheepishly at him. “I gotta… eat first.” 

He nods although he seems kind of weirded out by her. “Sure, Rey.” 

When he leaves, she lets out a sigh as she walks back to her seat, her brows cock up to see that Ben Solo is finally here when his seat is finally filled. The man she’s curious about. She’s not sure why she’s so curious, she just is. Taking a seat beside him to introduce herself, the word immediately dies on her tongue when she sees who it is.

Because as it turns out, Ben Solo is… Kylo. And Kylo is… Ben. The man who has just made her come. Meaning that they have always been destined to meet one way or another. 

He also turns his head when he hears the sound of her chair and she sees the realisation dawning upon his face. “You’re…” He furrows his brows when he reads her name card. “Reagan.” 

She blushes to hear her full name uttered from his lips. “ _Rey_ ,” she corrects him immediately, placing her plate on the table. “I’m just… Rey.” 

He has his hand around his glass of scotch. “Rey,” he repeats, testing her name. 

Fuck, her name sounds so pretty when he’s the one saying it. Her cheeks flame up. “And you’re… Ben,” she says with a smile. The name just feels right, rolling off her tongue.

He mirrors her expression, nodding. “It’s, um, it’s very nice to meet you, Rey.” He extends a hand out.

This time, she doesn’t even hesitate to take his hand, shaking it. 

His hand lingers around hers, as if he has a hard time letting go. She also doesn’t feel like letting go of his hand anytime soon, although this is getting kind of awkward. It would be better if she uses her other hand so they could just hold hands under the table the whole time. 

They have literally just met and she’s already thinking about holding his hand the whole entire night under the table. 

But the moment is cut short when someone grabs her arm and pulls her hand away so that she lets go of Ben’s. “Hey!” she exclaims and she looks up to see that it’s Armie. 

Unsurprisingly. 

“Get your filthy hand off my sister,” Armie sneers at Ben specifically. 

“We’re _literally_ just getting acquainted,” she half lies, annoyed. Truth is, they have gotten _acquainted_ alright. 

Ben stiffens before his eyes set on Armie. She could see it, the peeve in Ben’s eyes. Do they know each other or something? She could see his nose flaring but he’s quick to regain composure. 

That look doesn’t lie though. She has never seen a look so… distorted. 

“What, you guys know each other or something?” she muses, attempting to lighten things up. 

Armie takes a seat next to her, still glaring at Ben. 

“Let’s go home, Rey,” Armie seethes. “The couple have already gone on their honeymoon.” 

She turns to her brother so Ben can’t hear what she’s saying. “What, is this the guy you warned me about?” she asks in a hushed tone. 

But not too quietly because she can hear Ben snorting beside her. 

Armie just purses his lips, clenching his jaw. “He’s just bad news, okay? Come on. Let’s get going.” 

“Whoa, whoa, hey, how about Rose?” she asks. “We can’t just leave her—” 

“I can just tell her that we’re leaving, Rey,” he clips sharply, abridged as if his mind is made up and there’s not changing it. “She and I can talk tomorrow. You and I have no more business here.” 

Usually she’s always too fed up to argue with Armie, especially about something as dumb as this. But for some reason, she’s all of the sudden defensive over… something. She’s not sure what she is so defensive over because it can’t be about Ben when she literally just met the guy. He made her come once, thats fucking it. 

Except it’s not that simple because part of her is kind of… aware that Ben Solo is different. In a way. There’s this unexplainable feeling she has for him that she’s curious to find out and delve deeper. 

“Armie, you sound insane right now,” she finds herself hissing. “You’re being kind of dramatic. Let’s just enjoy this wedding, okay? We’re only sitting next to each other, it means nothing.” 

Armie’s blue eyes are like a tempestuous storm as they settle on Ben, as if Ben had murdered him before or something. 

She has never seen him so aggravated before. 

“We’re going,” he asserts. “Now.”

The topic should be dropped now. She should just acquiesce now, grab her purse and just humour Armie’s dramatic ass. Yet she surprises herself when she blurts out, “No.”

He stares at her in disbelief, his lips part. Apparently she rarely says no to him if that look indicates anything. “Come again?” 

Her jaw is slacked as she scowls at him. “You’re being so weird right now. I’m having a great time here. You can’t tell me whom I can or can’t talk to. And you’re making a scene.” 

“We’re not making a scene if you just listen to me,” he hisses. 

“I’m sorry, why are you acting so protective over her?” she hears Ben say. 

She turns to glare at him, giving him a look to not ruin this more.

But Ben is unrelent. “No, but for real,” he says. “He’s just your brother and… you’re a grown adult who can do whatever you want.”

“Mind your own fucking business,” Armie snipes. 

She’s not sure what possesses her to do what she’s doing next. She goes and grabs Ben’s hand under the table. Not sure the reason though. Assuring him everything is under control. Or maybe she’s doing it to tell him not to go, not to think everything about this is crazy and he might hate it. 

Ben takes her by surprise by intertwining their fingers together. Accepting her hand. 

“Armie, let it go,” she says as gently as possible while Ben is caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.

Her brother glowers at her almost angrily. She has never seen him like this. So pissed off and just… terrifying. 

“I’m leaving,” Armie mutters. 

And then she watches as he stands up and leaves the hall. 

She should let him go. He’s just being a baby and he’ll be fine tomorrow. But she finds herself releasing Ben’s hand, glancing at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” she murmurs. 

Concern is written all over Ben’s face but his eyes soften when she smiles at him. 

Maybe they’ll meet again. Maybe they won’t. Maybe what happened was just a wedding hookup. 

Or maybe he’ll call her. He knows her name, he knows Rose, and Rose is with Armie. He can easily get her number.

Right? 

But she decides to take her purse and leaves anyway. Handling her brother’s fucking tantrum. 

Family comes first, unfortunately. 

* * *

_The door barges open but they’re not afraid anymore. Bernard never lets go of her, even as her husband catches them together._

_“So this is what my wife has been doing behind my back,” Hughes slurs and she hears the sound of the shotgun cocking. “Fucking the town doctor. No wonder she wouldn’t let me touch her. The cunt already has her own toy.”_

_Rachel flinches at the insult but being in Bernard’s embrace is enough to deteriorate her fear. Just a little._

_Bernard snarls at Hughes but Rachel just pulls his face so he will only look at her. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “It’s okay. I love you.”_

_“You’ll pay for this, you son of a bitch,” she hears Hughes snarl behind her. “Get your filthy hands off my wife.”_

_But Rachel just holds onto Bernard so that if Hughes kills her lover, he’ll have to kill her first._

_“Are there no other women, not even at some whore house that you just had to lay your goddamn hands on my wife’s?” her husband colds bitterly. “You could have done so much better than her.”_

_From the way Bernard is shaking and how tight he’s clenching his jaw, it’s just anytime before he goes off. Her husband is going to kill her lover, but not when she’s shielding him._

_“Look at me, Bernard,” she murmurs pliantly, hiccuping. “Just look at me.”_

_It seems like it takes every strength for him to finally shift his attention to her. Just like that, she can see the stars shining in his eyes. The anger completely dissipates._

_She can hear footsteps behind her. “Scurry away, Rachel,” her husband demands. “Scurry if you don’t want to die.”_

_“No, Armitage!” she snaps, clutching Bernard’s shirt. Her mind is made up. She would rather die than spending the rest of her life without her lover. “If you’re going to kill him, you’ll have to kill me too. I would rather die than letting you touch me again.”_

_Concern is written all over Bernard’s face. He shakes his head and opens his mouth to protest when Hughes cuts him off. She glances at Hughes’ red face that matches his red hair._

_“How romantic,” Hughes spits darkly. “Stand together, die together.”_

_There is a deafening sound in her ears before she drops down, only seeing stars in her eyes. She could make out Bernard muttering in horror “no, no, no, my darling, wake up,” when he just stares at her while she slowly collapses on the ground, her body is still cradled by him. She wants to say so many things, but she can’t speak. She couldn’t even breathe anymore._

_Before she sees only white and a smiling Bernard, she can hear another loud booming sound. Followed by a cough and a last breath._

_Death is not so terrifying when you’re dying in your lover’s arms. Funny thing is, she has been feeling cold and dead for 21 years ever since she married Hughes. She has always felt like a widow mourning for her lost love except when she spends her nights with Bernard._

_Yet in death, she finally finds her peace. For the first time, she truly feels alive._

_Reborn._


	6. my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _If she didn’t know better, she would say he only calls her that as his way of self preservation._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s a long chapter but we have finally reached the end of the story 💗
> 
> I apologise in advance for any typos!

She wakes up with a start, this time her dream is no longer about a man whose face is obscured. Her dream sequences are also no longer about things that haven't ever happened before in her life (at least, not in _this_ life). 

No. Now she keeps dreaming about that wedding, the empty ballroom, the dance, the way he shattered her just from his fingers. Every time she wakes up, she's all hot and sweaty, dreaming about his lips and his voice and his nose and his hair and his fingers— 

It has been five days and she hasn't called him yet. Unbeknownst to Armie, she has asked Rose if she could give her Ben Solo's number even though she's not even sure that she will ever use it. It's just a comforting thought, she supposes, that she has his number. 

"Is he really _that_ bad?" she had asked Rose after obtaining her number when she secretly took Armie's phone to share her contact. This was 2 days after the wedding. "Is he as bad as Armie has depicted?" 

Rose just laughed from the other line. "Ben is... you know, he's a single man in his early 30s, it's inevitable that he would be sleeping around. He tries to date too but no one has really sparked an interest. He just gave up. He told me he'll never find his own dream girl so he settles on sleeping around." 

That's kind of understandable, although still weird. But she would be lying if she said she didn't have her own conquests. "But does he lie to get them in the sack?" 

"He uses pickup lines, yes, but lying? No. He can easily get these girls into his bed without lying, he's not that pathetic." 

Rey grimaced at that. Was she too easy? Letting him touch her like that without a question? But the looks he gave her seemed so genuine. He actually—he actually looked like he was fascinated by her? She's not sure but what she can say is that, no one is able to create that facade just like that. 

Right? 

Or is she just projecting? 

"Did he ask for my... number?" she asked softly. "I just... I think we had a great time." 

"Oh yeah, he did and I gave it to him after I stole your number from Armie's phone. Is that okay?" 

Rey just pinched her lower lip, her stomach coiling with anticipation. "Yeah, that's... completely fine." 

Now it has been days and she still hasn't gotten a text from him. Sure, she's glad he asked for her number but... 

Why hasn't he used yet? 

Why hasn't _she_ used it yet? 

Dating is so fucking complicated. She can't even pay attention in class because she keeps glancing at her phone. Armie is also starting to suspect something and she feels like... she _has_ to tell him the truth. 

That she likes Ben. 

That she hooked up with Ben. 

Maybe she also needs to ask him why exactly does he loathe Ben so much. Did they have a history? Did they meet prior to Armie dating Rose? So many questions swirl around her brain, hurting her head. 

It's just, she really doesn't keep anything from Armie. Their bond is pretty special and kind of strong and she's truly grateful to have him. Part of her really wants him to be okay with this. She doesn't need his permission but she does need his... blessing, she supposes. 

"Why do you keep glancing at your phone?" her brother finally asks, pausing _Sorry To Bother You_ as he turns to her. "Is it about that guy you had a thing with at the wedding?" 

She plays with the hem of her sweater. "I have to tell you something," she begins, calming her rapid heartbeat. 

Armie frowns. "You seem serious." 

She lets out a nervous laugh before she coughs. "I’m sorry I disappeared without telling you.”

“I get it,” he sighs, looking like he has a headache. “Fine. Whatever. You’re an adult. At least inform me before you disappear off. Send a fucking sock emoji maybe, God knows.”

She gives him an odd look. 

“But next time, just… don’t run off,” he suggests. “I know I can be overprotective but can you just do this for me?” 

“There won’t be any next time,” she says softly. “Next time I have a wedding hookup, it’ll be with my, um, boyfriend.” 

He seems perplexed by that. “What, are you and the guy you hooked up going on a date or something? You like him?” 

She doesn’t say anything, blush creeping up her cheeks as she averts her gaze.

His eyes soften. “Would you at least tell me who it is?” 

Ah, this is when it gets… a little complicated. “Well, um…” 

He lifts one brow up. “What? Don’t we tell each other everything?” 

Her stomach churns. “It’s just..” 

“What?” he prods. 

“You won’t like him.”

He snorts. “How would you even know that? Unless it’s…” Then he squints at her. “It’s not, isn’t it?”

“Who…?” she lies nervously, as if she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. 

He takes a sharp intake of breath. “Rey, tell me it’s not Ben Solo.” 

She looks at anywhere but his face. “Um…”

At first, he doesn't say anything, which makes the silence so deafening. But his look says it all. Distortion. Clenched jaw. Nose flaring. He completely tenses up. “It _was_ Ben,” he mutters in disbelief. 

Fuck, this is harder than she thought. The way he's giving her the cold shoulder. "Yeah," she admits. "Listen, there's just _something_ about him that, you know, gravitated me towards him." 

Armie slowly lets out an exhale. 

She huffs in exasperation. "You know what, I don't need to explain myself to you," she grits. "As much as you try to be Dad, you're not _Dad."_

The moment those words rush out of her mouth, she immediately regrets it. She watches the hurt in his eyes after she says that. 

He smacks his lips together. "I wasn't trying to be Dad. I'm merely looking out for you, like a goddamn older brother." He shakes his head, standing up. "You know what? Whatever. I couldn't care less anymore. Do whatever you want to do. I'm going to bed." 

When he stands up, she quickly follows, rushing towards him. "I'm sorry, Armie, that's not what I meant." 

Then he turns to her. "Then what _did_ you mean exactly? I fought so hard so they didn't have to put you in foster care because I care about you and I wanted to take care of you. I'm not asking for your sympathy, but you have to understand why I'm fucking protective over you. I know I'm not Dad but I know guys like Ben, Rey, they don't fucking deserve you." 

"I don't _need_ you to take care of me anymore," she seethes, anger seeping inside her. "I'm grateful for what you've done for me but I'm a big girl now. I completely acknowledge everything you're doing for me. You're trying to protect me but I also _know_ how to handle douchebags." 

"Oh really?" he bites out. "Yet here you are, ready to take a goddamn bullet for him like an idiot. Him. A _stranger_ to you." 

She frowns. "What fucking bullet? I'm only trying to ask you to just _trust_ my instincts. If it's a mistake, then it's _my_ mistake to make. I'm asking you to stop babying me." 

He grasps his hips, baring his teeth. "Then when you cry because of some stupid jerks, who do you come to? I have to watch you locking yourself up in your room, not eating, not even showering." 

That was a tough time, alright. But it was also her first love. She should have known, she had a terrible instinct about that guy yet she jumped anyway because of those angel eyes. She jumped into his arms. 

But this... this is different. It just is. She can feel it, just how much she craves for Ben. She can see herself spending the rest of her life with him. Does she sound crazy? Maybe! But this fervent passion she feels inside makes her want to take a leap of faith. 

If it doesn't work out, okay. Fine. She had heartbreaks before, she can go through this again. 

"That was years ago!" she argues. "Armie, my dating life is _my_ business. We can tell each other everything, we can give advices, but we can't tell each other whom and whom to not date. It's our own business. I never asked you to stop seeing that what's-her-name. Bazine or something?" 

"But Solo is—" He stops himself, looking frustrated. "You could pick anyone. Any fucking you want! Hell, you can pick Homeless Harold downstairs. But _not_ Solo." 

She gapes at him in disbelief. "What is your problem with him?" she demands.

Armie blinks in confusion. "What?" 

"What is so bad about him?" she questions. "Come on. Tell me." 

He opens his mouth to speak before he shuts himself up. She can see him mulling over a reason, anything to change her mind. "I just have a terrible feeling about him," he finally decides to say. "It's my instinct." 

She takes a sharp intake of breath, licking her lips. "Well," she sighs, already fed up from this argument. "I'm only trying to be open with you. But if you won't even let me see him even though I care for you enough to reason with you, then there's that. I'm still going to see him whether you like it or not." 

The muscle under his eye twitches as he stares at her. "Rey. Come on." 

But she's not listening. She just runs to her bedroom and slams the door close. Locking it. 

* * *

_“The doctor will be here soon,” Mr. Hughes rumbles while she lies lifelessly in her bed._

_Rachel nods, her body is drenched in sweat although she’s terribly freezing. She couldn’t even move — too enfeebled. Even her heart feels weak._

_There is a knock on their door downstairs. Reluctantly, Mr. Hughes stands up and walks down the stairs to fetch the doctor._

_For a while, she just closes her eyes. Her body is restless but unfortunately, she doesn’t feel like sleeping. So she just closes her eyes, taking a deep inhale. If this is how she is going to go, she hopes she’ll be content. Finally happy because all her life, all she feels is despair._

_The sound of the footsteps is barely audible. Her hearing feels like she’s underwater — like that time she was in a lake as a kid. Back when she thought her father loved her and that he would never cause any pain to her. That he would never marry her off to someone so despicable._

_“Rachel, the doctor is here,” she hears her husband say._

_But she keeps her eyes closed. Too exhausted._

_“Mrs. Hughes?” the deepest voice she has ever heard speaks._

_Her heart suddenly beats faster. She blinks a little, and then she slowly opens her eyes, seeing a figure hovering above her._

_A weight plops on the bed, close to her. Then she feels a scalding hand on hers, causing her breath to hitch at the jolt. When her sight unveils a man with dark hair and prominent nose and plump lips, sitting next to her with his massive hand enveloping hers, she’s immediately rousted. His smile is kind as his gaze settles on her._

_“Great, do whatever you have to cure her,” Hughes says gruffly behind him and she watches as he walks downstairs._

_Being left alone with a strange man is usually a terrifying thought for her but for some reason she instantly feels comfortable around him. Like she could trust him._

_She feels his blazing hand on her cheek and her forehead tenderly. “You’re burning,” he murmurs, his tone is trembling._

_“But I feel cold,” she blurts out._

_He smiles again, his palm lingering on her. But soon, he has to drop his hand when he realises what he’s doing. He clears his throat. “I’m Dr. Smith and I will do my best to… to quell your fever.” She sees his throat bobbing. “It’s common that you’re freezing while you’re sweating.”_

_She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. He’s too beautiful to watch, the most beautiful man she has ever laid her eyes on. But the most absurd thing is that she finds herself able to trust him in an instant._

_“I’m going to inspect your heartbeat, alright?” he says feebly._

_“Alright,” she repeats, fretting what he will think once he’ll hear just how rapid her heartbeat is. Even without that medical device he has around his neck, she knows he can feel it._

_It’s foreign, what she feels at this moment. It’s worse than her fever._

* * *

Sometimes she couldn't help but feel like she's insane. Defending a stranger like that. What if she was just a wedding hookup? Just a one time thing. 

She stares at her phone screen, at Ben's contact number. Since Rose shared it through text, it says **'Cuzzie'** since Ben is technically Rose's cousin. It sort of makes her smile, seeing that the number of this hot dude she hooked up with is saved under _cuzzie._

It has been three days since the argument with Armie. Eight days since the wedding. Still no text. No phone call. 

Her life feels like that montage scene in Twilight: New Moon where the camera circles around Bella as they indicate months have passed by just by putting the months out there for the audience to read. That's exactly how she is right now, except instead of staring at the window like Bella did, she's staring at her phone. 

Wow, she can't believe she resonates with Bella Swan again. 14-year-old Rey wishes. 

She keeps typing on the blank text message under the Cuzzie contact number. She types and erases, types and erases. 

_Hi, this is Rey! I'm not sure if you remember me._

_Hi. It's Reagan Hux from the wedding._

_Hello, is this Ben?_

_Hey, remember when you made me come against the wall of an empty ballroom?_

Of course she didn't send any of these texts. 

After sometime, enough is enough. She finally emerges from her room and finds her brother in the kitchen, downing a whole carton of milk while wearing a worn out t-shirt he probably had since he was 16 and those plaid pyjamas. It's Sunday so... 

"Hi," she simply says, crossing her arms. 

He throws the carton into the trash bin after slamming the refrigerator door close. "Lil sis," he acknowledges. 

"We have never gone this long without talking to each other," she remarks. 

Usually whenever they have an argument, they easily forget about it instantly. As if it never happened. It's just a regular occurrence, that's all. One day they argue after pissing each other off, the next day one of them asks, "Hey, what do you want to eat?" and then they completely forget what exactly were they arguing about. 

"Except that time you locked yourself in your room," he points out. 

She uncrosses her arms to pull her hoodie tighter before she crosses her arms again. "You still tried to talk to me though," she murmurs. "You made me watch some sappy rom coms and you bought me a whole jar of ice cream just for me." 

He nods. "I thought that's how girls recover from breakups," he mumbles. 

"It is," she assures him. "It was really helpful." 

Armie forces a smile, exhaling. 

"Look, you've been a great brother to me," she assures him, sniffling as she rests her arm on the refrigerator. "You had to hold a heavy responsibility at a terribly young age, you had to be the head of family. Although it's a... small family. It's just us." 

He just shrugs casually. 

"You might only have me to take care of but I was a teenage girl, I bet that was rough." 

"What's your point, Rey?" he huffs. 

"My point is that I will always count on you," she tells him softly. "Just because I'm telling you I'm growing up and I can take care of myself now doesn't mean that your job as an older brother is over." 

She could see pain flashing his eyes. 

"You have to let me choose my own path," she continues, her voice wavering. "It matters to me that you're on my side no matter what." 

His eyes soften while he swallows. "Reyby..." 

She smiles at the nickname. "I'm grateful to have you as my family. You've done a great job taking care of me. You need to know that." 

Armie inhales staggeringly and looks up, like he's holding back his tears. "Rey…”

"It matters to me that you'll have my back no matter what," she pleads, sniffling. “You’re my favourite person in this world. Ever. Even if I still want to follow my heart nevertheless, it’s still important to me that _you’re_ okay with this.” 

He sighs, his gaze softening. "You know that I'll _always_ have your back. I just can’t help but feel worried.” 

“I know,” she immediately says. “Just trust me? Please?” 

“Of course I trust you. Solo is just—" When he sees her pointed look, he purses his lips. "Sorry, I'll put my personal feelings aside. If you—” He gulps. “If you believe Solo is the one for you, then okay. I will never stop looking out for you but you have my support now.” 

She smiles widely, padding towards him to give him the biggest hug she could give. "Thank you," she murmurs, closing her eyes. "You're the best." 

He lets out a small chuckle as he hugs her back. "I'm always the best," he quips. 

She pulls away to smack his shoulder. 

"Great, you're being aggressive again," he muses. 

"Shut up," she tuts, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe you would rather see me dating Homeless Harold." 

His cheeks redden. "Not my proudest moment but hey, he's a cool dude, alright. He... he _sings._ Don't you like singers?" 

She shoves him to the side so she can grab a bowl and a box of cereal. "Just shut up. You can't be trusted anymore with your taste in men." 

That causes him to chortle. "You're one to talk, you have a crush on Benedict Cumberbatch." 

"Okay, just because we have made up doesn't mean you can roast me!" As soon as she pours the cereal in her bowl, that's when she remembers. "Fuck, you finished the milk." 

He snorts. "Guess you have to endure dry cereal then." 

She moans in pain. Fucking dammit. 

But at least things have gone back to normal between them. 

* * *

_“Your health is improving, Mrs. Hughes,” he says with a wide smile. “You’ve been so wonderful.”_

_Her chest swells with happiness, especially when he seems so proud of her, She wants to hear praises coming from those lips again. But at the same time, she’s dreading that this might be the last time she’ll see him now that she’s doing better unless she falls ill again. The idea of faking ill just so he’ll come visit again is tempting but she doesn’t want Mr. Hughes to suspect this. In addition to that, money is involved._

_Oh heavens. What if Dr. Smith has only been kind to her for his own benefit? The more she’s ill, the more he gains his earnings. But his eyes are always warm whenever they’re on her. The way he looks at her, there is no absolutely way he would fake that. His smile is always genuine. Unless she’s too blinded by her… would she dare to say feelings?_

_Here she is, harbouring hope that another man falls in love with her all while she’s already wedded to someone else. She’s aware of how ludicrous she is right now._

_“Thank you, Dr. Smith,” she tells him with a smile. She even dresses up nicely today, in her favourite all white ruffled gown. Deep inside, she wants him to notice her._

_He lets out a breathy chuckle, nodding. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Hughes,” he says, swallowing._

_There he goes with the whole Mrs. Hughes. How she loathes that, knowing full well that they couldn’t be together. “Would it be foolish if I ask you to call me Rachel?” she asks._

_His expression softens. “Foolish? No. Inappropriate… most probably.”_

_She bites her lip. “We’ve known each other for quite sometime now. I want you to call me Rachel.”_

_“Mrs. Hughes…” he trails off._

_If she didn’t know better, she would say he only calls her that as his way of self preservation._

_Could it?_

_“Tell me I’m not the only one who feels it,” she pleads._

_“F-Feel what?” he rasps._

_“You know what I’m trying to convey here,” she argues, finding herself inching closer to him while he slowly backs away. “Don’t be… afraid.”_

_He lets out a ragged laugh. “Even if I do feel something, it’s improper, Mrs. Hughes,” he chokes out._

_Her impatience leads her to be emboldened as she clutches his collar and pulls her until his lips are on hers, emitting a groan out of his throat. But the surprising thing is that his hand is quick to grab the back of her head as he pulls her closer. She sobs in relief as he deepens the kiss, finally grasping the belonging and happiness she has always sought for._

_But the feeling is cut short when he tears his lips from hers. “Your husband is right downstairs,” he says worryingly, cupping her jaw._

_“He won’t know,” she assures him, placing her palm on his cheek and stroking his under eyes with her thumb._

_He chides her with a look, but she just stares at his lips._

_“A little more kiss wouldn’t harm anyone,” she murmurs._

_And he gives in. She would risk it all for this little moment they have before she goes back to her duty as a wife. Just a little, a little sliver of happiness that she chases._

_It’s all she needs. For now._

_With bruised lips and concupiscent look in his eyes, he places one last kiss on her lips before he stands up and walks towards the door. For a while, she thought, that’s it. Just a little taste and she should let him go now._

_But then…_

_He rushes towards her and kneels in front of her. “Meet me in the woods behind your house,” he tells her with shimmering eyes. “You’ll know where I live when you see a cottage near the shining lake. It’s the house that’s covered by ivy. Drop by anytime. I come back from work right before the sundown.”_

_Her heart flutters in anticipation as she nods, lips quivering. “I shall see if I could escape from this godforsaken house.”_

_He smiles pitifully before pulling her in for one last kiss that she knows will linger for the whole week. “You will,” he whispers._

_It’s a terrible idea but it’s a risk she would take. The anticipation already makes her feel more alive than she has been feeling all her life._

* * *

There are times when she has the urge to drive to Takodana bar just to see him because he still hasn’t called. In case he's still picking up girls at the bar, shit like that. She just needs to know _how_ he sees her. 

Does he not feel the same way? She's absolutely sure they have a connection. 

It’s all the matter of whether she would jump in. Take a leap of faith. She could either get that future she has thought of whenever she thinks about him where they fall in love, the kind of love that people envy. Like they would look at them and they just know, “Oh, they’re meant to be.”

That, or she falls for him too hard and gets disappointment instead, facing a horrible doom. 

But she’s willing to take the chance though. 

She snaps out of her reverie, thinking she’s _finally_ ready to find him. It’s time to be brave. Take a chance. Shit like that. She looks at his contact number and thinks, ah fuck it. So she presses the **Call** button. 

Shit, shit, shit, she forgot to pay her bills and she uses fucking Android so she can’t exactly use Facetime, in case there’s a chance he uses iPhone. He did look like uses iPhone. Just her fucking luck. Now is when she sort of regrets not using an iPhone as much as she’s not a big fan of Apple. 

Whatever, she’s going to find him herself. Wearing only a sweatshirt, she walks out of the apartment, rushes down the stairs and hops in her car and drives all the way to Manhattan that’s a few miles away from where she lives. Hey, she has been here before, she can come here again (although both times are for, uh, Ben. Even if she bumped into Vicrul instead). 

The first place she drives to is of course Takodana. Yes, it’s only afternoon and she’s supposed to have a class today but there might be a chance that he comes here for lunch hour (which sounds… impossible). Usually she likes to keep a clean streak yet here she is, skipping class. Her attendance is always full. She never misses a class. No matter what, she always attends class. Yet today, something changes her mind. 

She doesn’t even know if Ben works around this area but she does remember his _interrogation_ when he asked where he might have seen her. She finds herself smiling, recalling their conversation.

> _“Have you been to Takodana bar?” he asks._
> 
> _“Uh, no.”_
> 
> _He humphs. “Manhattan?”_
> 
> _“Like… years ago.”_
> 
> _“Central Park, New York?”_
> 
> _She snorts. “Never. I rarely go to New York.”_
> 
> _“Seventh—”_

Parking in front of the bar, she steps out of her car and immediately heads into the bar. Her eyes wander around the bar, searching for his face. If she accidentally bumps into Vicrul, she’s not sure what she’s going to do. She feels like an ass after what happened — never even dancing with him. Attempting her best to be subtle, she approaches the bar. 

“Hello,” she chirps to the bartender. Maybe she knows since Ben is kind of a regular. She thinks. Fuck, she knows nothing about him. 

The bartender is wiping a couple of glasses when she glances at Rey. “Yeah?” she tuts. 

Rey’s cheeks flush in embarrassment. Being on a quest to look for a fucking man. But she thinks he’s worth it. “Do you… know Ben Solo?” she asks hesitantly. “He comes here a lot but I’m not sure what time he always comes and whether he has been here during your shift.”

“What, did he sleep with you and never called you?” the bartender quips.

That causes her to wince. “Uh, no.” Sort of? Should she be worried? Does he do that often? 

Fuck, is she being stupid right now? 

A small smile appears on the bartender’s lips. “No, he’s not here right now. He usually comes here after work but lately he hasn’t been here for sometime.” 

“You think you can help a girl out and tell me where he works?” Rey asks with a sheepish grin. “I’m not a stalker, I promise. And I’m not here to hunt him down for sleeping with me and not calling me either, we haven’t, uh, slept together.” Is this even appropriate to say? She’s pretty sure bartenders have heard worse. 

The bartender just offers her a pity smile. “I’m sorry, honey, I really don’t know where he works. I just know that he’s a doctor or something.” 

She nods with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much.” 

But of course she won’t go to the fucking hospital, yet. She’ll just cross out all the places he mentioned. So she searches for him around Central Park, in case for some reason he eats his lunch here. Or maybe he doesn’t go for lunch since he’s a doctor and shit like that. Just as she expected, she couldn’t find him here. 

Of course she finds a lot of disgustingly sweet couples everywhere since, um, it’s Valentine’s Day. 

She swears it’s a coincidence that she picked today to find him. 

He mentions Seventh before she stupidly interrupted him. Could it be 7th Avenue? Based on Google Map, 7th Avenue is around this area, close to the bar too. She searches for hospitals near this area. Something shifts her attention — a boba tea store. Sue her, she’s thirsty and she can’t resist some boba so she walks towards the store and buys herself one.

Sitting in the car with one hand holding the plastic cup and another hand holding her phone, she browses for nearby hospitals. 

There are at least _three_ hospitals near this area alone. 

Maybe this is a stupid and pointless quest. Although New York is only a goddamn island, it’s still a vast place with millions of people here. She lets out a deep sigh, thinking maybe she should go home. What is she gonna do, sitting at Takodana for hours in case he comes in? What a joke. 

She waits until she finishes her boba tea, still sitting inside the car with the radio on and the window rolled down. She feels a pinch in her chest when she hears Norah Jones. Again. 

_Come away with me and we'll kiss_

_On a mountaintop_

_Come away with me_

_And I'll never stop loving you_

When she finishes drinking, she emerges from the car and locks the door, searching for the garbage disposal or something. 

But then she gets _slightly_ distracted when she looks around the street. Fucking Valentine. Her chest aches as she watches couples everywhere. Holding hands, sharing moon eyed looks to each other, holding flowers in their arms. It's this moment when she feels the loneliest, when she craves for love the most. 

It's just a day. It's nothing special. It's not even a fucking holiday. 

It's lonelier like this than being alone, oddly enough. Here she is, surrounded by a sea of people yet she's feeling the loneliest today. Part of her is judging that couple outside the window of Starbucks, making out disgustingly in public. 

But part of her also knows that if she were in love, she would be that obnoxious too. 

She stops by and stands in front of the window of the candy store blindly. Her mouth waters, wanting to buy even the heart shaped candies. She hasn't had cravings for candies in ages but here she is. 

But she decides to walk forward, in the sea of lovers. She needs this — the not-so-fresh air, the cold wind sweeping up her face, anywhere but locking herself up in her room and glancing at her phone screen every minute. 

Walking around aimlessly. 

She's supposed to be in class right now. Miss Holdo is supposedly teaching about how it works when minors are the plaintive, according to the syllabus. She finds a garbage bin and throws her cup before she makes her way back to her car. It’s time to go home. 

The crowd seems to part for her when she finds herself slowing down her pace. In the crowd full of lovers, always in pairs, her eyes manage to raptly focus on him. But it's not too difficult to find him. After all, he towers everyone with his height and width and he has a distinct face. 

At first she has trouble believing that he's right here. She's torn between running away from him (out of her cowardice or some shit) or running towards him. It takes him a moment to notice her because there's a sea of people between them but his gaze still manages to rest on her anyway. She sucks a sharp breath as soon as their eyes meet. So many feelings come rushing down to her, almost overwhelming her. 

Shock. Confusion. Disbelief. Delighted. Relieved. Fear. All in one. 

All the lovers around her have faded into view and turned into just a black and white, parting to make way for her as she sashays through the crowd towards him. She finds herself running — oh fuck, she's _running_ — and he's also moving in a fast pace towards her, shoving people around. 

They're so close now. In her eyes, in her eyes the light only scintillates for him and no one else. Around them, the place is dimming except for him, bright as sunlight. 

She doesn't know why she's running but he's also miles and miles away from her. They cut down all the distance between them, not caring who they're shoving. Because they found each other and now all they need to do is meet in the middle. 

Plus, she hasn't completely processed that she's _actually_ looking at him and they're actually running towards each other. There is no way a stranger would do this for her — sprinting to find her. 

Right? 

And then they stop running.

Now they're standing in front of each other. In the middle of a street, they just freeze right there instead of, well, maybe hugging or — something. Hands on each of their own sides, curling into fists. 

She has to crane her neck to look up at him from this proximity. Her heart is pounding against her chest, out of nervousness or just… something else that she couldn’t describe. So many things she wants to ask him. _Why didn't you call me? Text me? What are you doing here? How are you here?_

He is wearing a button down shirt tucked in his trousers, probably from work. This just shows how many things they have to learn about each other. Frankly, she’s excited for that. Getting to know him even if she’s absolutely sure that in a way, she feels like she _does_ know him. 

So many things she wants to say but instead, what comes out of her mouth is, "You're here." 

His gaze is unwavering as he stares at her, also seeming like he's in a state of disbelief. "So are you," he breathes out, his lips quivering. His hand lifts up to her face before he drops it really quickly, refraining himself. 

She wishes he could just let his temptation win, she needs to feel his lips on hers again. Her lips are tingling from wanting to kiss those lips. 

"You never called me," she huffs, glancing between his lips and his eyes. The words just rush out of her mouth before they even reach her mind. "Did you ever want to call—" 

"I kept typing and erasing and typing," he interjects before his cheeks flush pink. "I did—I _did_ want to call you. Text you. I keep erasing because I don't want to fuck it up. So I just… mostly stare at my phone screen with your name there.”

She knits her brows together, staring up at him. Scanning for the truth. A hint of earnestness.

"I felt it," he murmurs while people are walking past them. "I felt something between us. I'm not trying to be cheesy but I swear I've been searching my whole life for you." 

Tears stream down her face. His eyes are genuine, she thinks. Unless that's just hope that she's harbouring, desperately needing him to be _the_ one. But his voice is trembling with sincerity, which makes her think that maybe he does mean what he says — unless he's a great actor. 

He closes some distance between them. "Please tell me you feel it too," he pleads. 

She breathes heavily, wiping her tears. She's not sure why she's crying. It's just... this feeling... it's so overwhelming. It's fucking strong. Never has she felt so strongly like this. "What do you feel?" she croaks out. 

His hand reaches to hers and she gasps at the barest hint of his fingertips on the back of her hand. "This is insane. You can slap me if you don't feel what I feel. But..." He swallows, the words hang heavily on his tongue. "I never thought the song _I Knew I Loved You_ made sense. I always made fun of that song.”

That emits a small laugh out of her before she breathes raggedly. 

"Like, the idea of loving someone before you met sounds preposterous," he rants in disbelief. "But Rey, I—I _did_ see a future in your eyes. And it terrifies me but I do want to take the chance. Will you take a chance on me?” 

Their fingers begin to intertwine together, both of them are quivering. 

"Hell, I think I even _dreamed_ about our past that never even happened!" he exclaims and she knows exactly what he's saying. "Just... say that you feel it too, Rey. Tell me I'm not insane. Am I insane?" 

She looks down at their joined hands. Her hand perfectly fits in his palm. She's absolutely sure she has held this hand before, even before the wedding. 

He also follows where she's looking at. His thumb caressing the back of her hand, making her smile. 

"You're not insane," she confesses with a smile before she musters the courage to look up at him. "I..." She sucks a deep breath. "I feel it too." 

It feels like they have this unspoken communication between them. There are so many things they want to say. Funny how they barely know each other yet it feels like they have a lot of things to catch up with each other. 

His face spreads into the biggest smile she has ever seen. It causes her chest to swell, her stomach to flutter, and her toes to curl. It's the kind of smile that brings joy inside her. That says everything he can say just from his eyes. 

They inch closer again until there's no air between their bodies anymore. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly, his free hand reaches up to tuck some strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Why haven't you even kissed me yet, you moron?" she sputters out with a laugh. 

Until her laugh dies when he cups her jaw and pulls her towards him, their lips meet halfway. Right there, in the middle of the crowd. 

Now she's also part of the sea of lovers. 

She wraps her arms around his neck after they release each other’s hands, deepening the kiss. He circles his arms around her waist and somehow, she finds herself being lifted up in the air. She giggles against his lips, her feet dangling in the air while he devours her mouth, almost bursting with joy. 

Maybe she's exaggerating but this is the kiss of life. In this kiss, she feels like she has been brought back to life, the air rushes inside her lungs. As if she has been walking around lifelessly all this time. 

It's just a kiss yet it brings her so much incandescent happiness. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she can see it. Their future together. And she knows he knows exactly what she’s feeling. 

_This_ is what she has been searching her whole life. 

She’s finally home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The reason why I made Armie as Rey’s brother even though in the past, he was the murderer husband:**  
> 
> 
> I’ve discussed with my spiritual friend, San and [Bee](https://twitter.com/reyiotrash2) so I couldn’t take full credit. 
> 
> First of all, people don’t remember what was their life like in the past. So neither Rey, Armie, nor Ben remembered Rachel was married to Armitage and both Rachel and Bernard were murdered by Armitage. Just like past lovers, past enemies also exist. That explains why Ben and Armie have bad feelings about each other because they were enemies back then. Which is why Armie doesn’t approve of Ben. They had never met prior to Armie dating Rose. 
> 
> I made Armie Rey’s brother because family love is unconditional. Even though Armitage murdered Rachel in the past, he was mainly blinded by rage and jealousy. We only saw from Rachel’s POV but the truth is, Armitage did come to love her, although it was unrequited. He was a piece of shit but he did love her. Since karma is a bitch, in a way, Armie turned out to be her brother because he has unfinished business. In this case, it’s Rachel—Rey’s—love.
> 
> So Rey and Armie were born as siblings because no matter what, you love your family unconditionally. He’s not a piece of shit like Armitage but he still inherits Armitage’s protectiveness (and possessiveness). 
> 
> Anyway, I hope this explains it. This is perhaps my favourite thing to write, ever, I had a tremendous fun writing it. If you have any question, I’ll gladly answer it! Please give this fic some love by smashing that kudos button. ♥️

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ch4rliebarbers)


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